Sympathy for the Slytherin
by heysweet
Summary: Draco returns to Hogwarts following the mysterious death of his father. Hermione tutors an angst-ridden Draco. Ingredients: Angst, comedy, a drunk Draco, a seductive Draco, a tortured Draco, action, adventure, romance and MUCH MUCH MORE!
1. The Tutor

J**Sympathy for the Slytherin**

**Disclaimer:**I didn't write it. JK wrote it. Thanks, JK. Notes: Just hope I haven't made any factual erros. Feedback is very welcomed.

**Summary:** (Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Other)

Death eaters, murders, kisses, nightmares, dark lords, black t-shirts, close escapes, kidnappings, suicidal tendencies, tutors, flashbacks, friendships, runaways, fear, loathing, truth, beauty, freedom and above all love, plus this sentence: "What Draco desires more then anything is redemption. And that is what I intend for him to find."

**Chapter One: The Tutor**

It was nearly Halloween when Draco attempted to make a quiet return to Hogwarts. That is, he was quiet but no one else was. After all, the violent ending of Lucius Malfoy in the middle of a death eater ritual gone awry had been in all the papers and every student at Hogwarts had followed the epic search for Draco. In fact, five death eaters had died that night but the sudden absence of Draco put all the focus on the Malfoy family. What was not publicly known was _who _killed Lucius and even the motive was questionable. Because so many details were unknown, theories upon theories upon outrageous imaginings abounded. It was fact that when Albus Dumbledore, Lupin and three other aurors arrived on the scene at the foreboding cliff top of Grier's Mountain, the ritual had already been interrupted to some extent. But very little else was confirmed. Dumbledore and the rest, including the survivors, spoke only with the ministry and very little with the press. Certainly, the body count was given to the press. Two muggle children, two muggle mothers, three wizard children, one witch and five death eaters including Lucius were all dead. The rest of the death eaters present were taken to Azkaban. Interestingly, Draco did not seem to fit into either the category of victim or bad guy.

Some thought the victims had managed to overpower the death eaters and the battle was taking place as Dumbledore arrived and on that theory most assumed that Lucius had been killed along with the four others by either Lupin or one of the wizard victims, perhaps even a muggle. Most who believed that theory also believed that Draco had obviously disappeared because he had seen his own father's death or maybe because he was in some way also involved with the ritual itself and fled the scene. Before his recovery, many thought Draco already was a death eater but the lack of a mark on his arm was highly publicized when he was found. Those who thought he was partly responsible for the deaths of innocents assumed he had disappeared as a fugitive, fearing his own imprisonment.

Within Hogwarts, most Slytherins did not know _what _to think and looked upon the return of Draco with a sense of awe.

Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, the afternoon before Draco's arrival, four friends heatedly discussed their own theories.

Ron and Harry, no longer boys but taller, deeper voiced and rather good looking young wizards crouched before a game of chess. The game wasn't going well, the two kept debating the possibilities with Hermione who sat curled up with a copy of Transcendental Transfiguration and Ginny, who sat next to Harry and was more interested in staring at his hands then at the game, and forgetting to take their turns. This upset the chess pieces so that one of the knights began screaming obscenities at Ron until he made a move.

Ron stroked his chin, feeling the satisfying roughness of stubble because he had not potioned it shaven that morning.

"I think you-know-who made an appearance, don't you? And probably took Draco with him."

"Possible," said Harry, lazily fingering a black pawn. "You think they'd be able to keep it a secret?"

Hermione ran a hand through her ponytail. Over the past year her hair had managed to become a bit less frazzled and was now delightfully smooth, falling in soft waves.

"But what would you-know-who want with Draco?" she asked, having read the same paragraph in her book at least six times.

"Well, you know," said Ron, "with his father dead, maybe he er, tried to adopt him or something."

"Voldemort, the nurturing father," Ginny said, smirking. "Now that's a pleasant thought."

"They say he's different now," Hermione said. "Draco, I mean. That he hardly speaks except to his mother."

"Yes, yes," sighed Ron, "and he was catatonic and he was found pathetic and muddy in Egypt. We know."

"I'm just _saying_ that he's not going to be the same Draco we all know and despise."

Harry's expression hardened and said,"Well, to be honest, I can't believe they're letting him back in here."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"But Harry we don't _know _what-"

"C'mon, Hermione!" Harry said suddenly, standing up and knocking over his chair. "Don't give me that bunk about him not being involved! He was present at an assemblage of death eaters where totally innocent people died! And personally I think he _does _probably have the mark. It's all nonsense! Who _observes_ a death eater ritual unless they're in on it! Nonsense!"

Hermione closed her book and set Harry with a steady gaze.

"I certainly hope you don't become a magistrate, Harry. You assume guilt much too easily."

What's a magistrate?" Ginny asked, frowning.

Harry took a breath and sat back down.

"There is a great possibility that I will be taking potions with a good friend of the grouchy fellow who gave me this mark on my head," he said. "You can understand that I might be upset."

"And you've apparently forgotten that Dumbledore knows what he's doing _and _that he was _there_. Trust him. You know your protection is one of his highest priorities, " Hermione pointed out.

"Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "I can't help thinking though that Draco got what he deserved. I know his father died but the man was an evil death eater so I think I'll shed my tears later. And Draco has never shied from aligning himself with his father. I mean if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck..."

"Then it's definitely an elephant, " Ron said casually.

They laughed and Ron congratulated himself for easing the tension in the room.

Harry sighed, "Fine then. Draco's coming back and there's nothing I can do about it. He'd just better stay away from the four of us."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That evening at dinner, the buzz was at an all time high. Certainly there had been more talk about Draco lately then about quidditch games and exams and juicy gossip combined but tonight, everyone at every table had nothing else on their lips.

At the Gryffindor table Ron had everyone captivated with a dream from the night before.

"And then Snape grew a _third eye _and Flitwick poked it out with a stick!"

Ginny grimaced.

"Ewww! Ron!"

"What? I can't help what I dreamt. Crookshanks was there too...except he was a moose. But we called him Crookshanks."

Hermione smiled around a bite of roast beef.

"You have weird dreams," she said. "I had a dream about Crookshanks too last night. Actually, it was about a dragon."

"Oooh, was it a nightmare?" Ginny asked, shivering.

"No, no. It was a friendly dragon. It was sleeping in the common room, curled up next to Crookshanks in front of the fire."

Harry looked good naturedly skeptical.

"But how do you _know _it was friendly?" he asked.

Hermione chuckled, "Because it could talk, of course. And it let me pet it's head and tickle it's tummy."

Ron laughed, "You've been having Charlie's dreams. If it was a talking dragon, what did it say?"

Hermione thought back to the short but vivid dream.

"Thank you," she asnwered.

"What was it thanking you for?" Ginny said.

"For petting it's head and tickling it's tummy, I suppose. But that's all it said."

"I wish I had dreams about ticklish, talking green dragons in the common room. Better then giant killer snakes and psychotic diarists."

Harry looked alarmed.

"_Still?_" he asked.

"Only every once in a while."

Ron nudged Hermione and asked, "What kind of dragon was it?"

"I don't _know_, Ron." Hermione rolled her eyes and went on, "It was just a green dragon. A sweet dragon that could talk...A sweet talking dragon, if you will."

It was just before dessert when Dumbledore stood and asked for the hall's attention.

"Tomorrow, as you all know and can't stop talking about, we will be welcoming back into our midst a student who once missing has been found. All of us at one time or another have come into contact with young Mr.Malfoy and many of us have certain prejudices which I don't doubt were at one time deserved."

At this point, he looked directly at Harry, Ron and Hermione and spoke slowly, "But I would like to assure you for the sake of Mr.Malfoy, that in the matter of certain events which led to his disappearance, he is _entirely_ innocent."

Throughout the hall were emitted light gasps by many who had their doubts but could not disbelieve the headmaster.

"I would ask of all of you that you attempt to forget what you think you know. I would ask of all of you that you not hound him on the matter of his disappearance. And you will become soon aware that he is in no condition to be harassed with questions. I would ask of all of you that treat him with courtesy, that you put your prejudices behind you and that you remember that he is a student of Hogwarts. Just like the rest of you."

There was some muttering on this point as well and Harry stared at the table, for once uncertain if he could respect Dumbledore's wishes.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and clasped his hands together.

"There is..." he trailed off and cleared his throat again, "one more thing of which I must inform you and it is rather unprecedented. Due to... the desires of Lady Malfoy and because of the special circumstances of this case, Draco will be also be... changing houses."

This threw the hall into a frenzy, the Slytherin table looking affronted and upset while the other three houses argued, wide eyed about the possibilities. Snape sat, glaring daggers at Dumbledore perhaps wondering if the whole thing had been his decision.

Meanwhile, at the Gryffindor table, the gang of four sat quietly with bated breath.

Harry's eyes were saucers.

"Why do I think I know _exactly_ what's coming?" he whispered.

"Due to spacial limitations... " said Dumbledore.

"Ravenclaw, say Ravenclaw, " Hermione whimpered.

"And equally due to my own judgment..."

Ron shook his head and muttered,"He wouldn't do this to us. No way."

Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back.

"Draco Malfoy will now be a student of-"

Ginny looked appropriately terrified.

"Oh, gosh."

"Griffyndor."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dessert ended and the students began making their way back to their rooms, now in a more frantic tizzy then they'd been in before.

"I can't believe this!" Ron shouted. "What are we supposed to do? Welcome him with open arms?"

"A Slytherin in Gryffindor," Harry seethed. "And _Malfoy _of _all _people."

Hermione twitched and grumbled, "I can see we're leaving those prejudices behind. Just like Dumbledore said."

She was about ask about which room he would take when she felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Professor McGonagall.

"I must speak with you in private," she said.

Hermione, now a prefect, was accustomed to this and waved at her friends, "I'll see you in the common!"

McGonagall led her out into the hall way and into the nearest classroom. The Scottish witch leaned against a desk as Hermione stood expectantly, her hands in the pockets of her robe.

"I need to ask of you a very great favor, Hermione."

Hermione nodded, assuming it had something to do with attempting to keep her house in line during such a chaotic period.

"Obviously, Draco has missed quite a bit of school work, coming in to the year a month and a half late..." McGonagall began.

_Oh bloody hell... _Hermione swore to herself.

"And since you are certainly one of the more accomplished students in the school and will be easily accessible to him, we wondered if you might act as his tutor in assisting him to catch up. However, I know your feelings toward him. And if it makes you too uncomfortable, I will understand. The choice is yours."

Being given a choice in the matter made it all the worse.

If she accepted, Ron would certainly kill her if Harry didn't first.

And yet she had just as much of a reason to despise Malfoy as the rest of them. And then she wondered why she was trying to justify it. Why accepting the proposal seemed more natural then refusing it. It was almost a sixth sense that was arguing down the more rational side of her brain. McGonagall seemed fearfully grave to be asking for something as simple as tutoring. And more then that, she felt herself compelled to accept it.

So she took a deep breath, uncertain of what was going to come out of her mouth.

"I'll do it."

McGonagall seemed surprised, though she couldn't have been more surprised then Hermione was with herself.

"Well. That's excellent. Quite excellent. I thank you. It will be... I suppose it will be a challenge at first. You will hardly recognize him," she said with a shook of her head. "But then, perhaps that's for the best."

"Is that all then?" Hermione asked.

"That is all. Thank you very much, Hermione. You can't know how much this means."

Hermione smiled respectfully and made her way back to her house.

_No, _she thought, _I can't know how much it means. That's what worries me..._

In the corridor, McGonagall was met quickly by Dumbledore.

"And the verdict is?" he asked.

McGonagall sighed, "She has accepted. And I must admit, I am more then a bit astonished."

"I thought she would, " Dumbledore said, stroking his great beard. "She has it in her."

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? Did Lady Malfoy really ask that he change houses?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow as they walked slowly down the hallway, now devoid of any students.

"No, " he said, "I lied on that point. It was Draco who wanted out of Slytherin."

McGonagall gasped, "Draco? You're joking."

He put up a hand, as if swearing an oath.

"On my word. But it was I who chose Gryffindor. Certainly there was a space or two in other houses."

"And why, Albus?" McGonagall demanded, throwing up her hand. "Why pair him with his enemies when he is in such turmoil?"

Dumbledore stopped at a window looking out at a crescent moon that dimly lit the forbidden forest of Hogwarts.

"I have spoken with Draco since he was found. His greatest wish is not for a return to normalcy. It is not even for peace. What Draco desires more then anything is redemption. And that is what I intend for him to find."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Actually, Draco arrived late that night when most of Hogwarts, the parts of it following lights out time anyway, were already asleep. According to Dumbledore, this was to throw off a rather intrusive press so that Draco would not have to fight his way through the gates past reporters. Draco was aided by Mcgonagall and a ministry official through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts at two o'clock in the morning. He remained mostly silent as the professor welcomed him back. In his mind though, he wondered when she would get around to telling him what house he had been given. They seemed to be walking in the opposite direction of Slytherin but Draco did not know where the other houses were. He had assumed they would put him in Ravenclaw for good or ill. It seemed the most logical. Certainly not Hufflepuff.

"What house will I be staying in?" he asked softly.

McGonagall looked uneasy as they continued to walk and turned down another corridor. It was jarring enough talking to someone with Draco Malfoy's face and an entirely different demeanor. This person seemed old, weathered and somewhat...broken.

"You'll soon find out," she said simply.

They approached a large painting at the end of the corridor which Draco made out to be a rather unattractive middle-aged lady in a ridiculous pink dress. The ministry official who had been carrying Draco's luggage left it with McGonagall, had her sign a scroll and made his way.

McGonagall cleared her throat and said in her typical stern tone, "Thrice bison."

The lady nodded curtly and slid away to reveal a tunnel. Draco picked up his luggage and followed McGonagall into...

A comfortable looking common room decked out in crimson and gold banners.

He dropped his bags unceremoniously and glared at his new house dean.

"You can't be serious."

She rubbed her hands together and attempted to reassure him.

"This was Dumbledore's decision," she said. "I'm sure you'll adjust."

"When I asked for a different house, I didn't mean..._this _different."

McGonagall steeled herself to lie.

"It was the only space available."

"No," he said insistantly, shaking his head, "you don't understand. Everything I've... I can't."

She smiled kindly.

"You can. You must."

"But they'll eat me alive!" he hissed.

She shushed him and whispered, "No one is going to eat you alive, Draco. Now, I'll show you to your room. Try to be quiet, I don't want to wake the other students."

He crept behind her up the stairs and past the girl's dormitories.

"The fates are against me," he grumbled to himself.

McGonagall showed him to his room. Mercifully, it was not Harry and Ron's room. That would've been much too cruel a stroke. Instead he was sharing a room with second years, all mostly strangers to him. He put his things at the foot of the vacant bed nearest the door and McGonagall wished him goodnight. And then he was left alone. He heard the younger boys stir in their sleep and he rubbed his eyes. He had slept all of four hours in the last three days and he was exhausted. He fell onto the luxurious bed, not even bothering to take off his shoes.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was sleepless with anxiety. What kind of responsibility had she taken on by agreeing to be Draco's tutor? And more then that there was dealing with Ron and Harry to be considered, who were not exactly thrilled when she had told them. Livid was a more appropriate term. She sat on her bed, tapping her quill compulsively and getting arithmancy work done (a week ahead of time) when she heard the pink lady's door open outside her room. Her ears perked up and her prefect's instinct kicked in. Any student caught at this late hour of the night would get a warning and it if it were either Harry, Ginny or Ron, a scolding for not inviting her along. She got up quickly, pulling on her cloak over her pajamas. She tiptoed to the door so as not wake her roomies and opened the door as quietly as she could, peaking out into the common room. She gasped a little in surprise.

It was Malfoy. In the flesh. Already. _Here_, walking into the Gryffindor common room accompanied by McGonagall. She stepped outside the door and flattened herself against it, knowing she would be all but invisible this deep into the shadows.

Malfoy did look different, even from across a room. Tired and weak and...broken somehow. But he _was _still Malfoy and seeing his face again brought back all the old resentment and disgust. She watched him drop his bags and look around him disbelievingly.

"You can't be serious," she heard him say.

McGonagall looked quite uncomfortable.

"This was Dumbledore's decision. I'm sure you'll adjust."

Malfoy didn't look angry about it though. Certainly not affronted as she would normally expect. He looked purely miserable. Afraid even.

"When I asked for a different house, I didn't mean..._this _different."

Hermione's eyes bulged and she just barely managed to withhold a cry of surprise. So Malfoy had requested to leave Slytherin? It was too much. What did it mean?

"It was the only space available."

"No...you don't understand. Everything I've... I can't."

He was conflicted, she thought. He appeared to be almost paralyzed with it. She considered, as if from a distance, that perhaps he really did want to...start over. He called her "mudblood", tortured her, tortured Ron and Harry, picked fights, belittled them, humiliated them and asked only to be hated. And now he wanted starting over?

"You can. You must."

"But they'll eat me alive!"

She couldn't help but smirk a little, purely from the image it conjured up. Harry and Ron sitting at the Gryffindor table, feasting on a juicy portion of roasted Malfoy.

She heard McGonagall mutter something at him and soon they were making their way up the stairs, near to her. She slipped deeper into the shadows and watched Malfoy trudge past carrying his bags. He paused for a moment.

"The fates are against me," she heard him say.

It was something you'd say lightly, an exaggeration. But from the look in his eyes, he seemed to mean it.

She watched until they entered the second year's room and then Hermione slipped back to her bed. So many questions. If Malfoy was innocent, _why_ had he been there that night in the first place? And why had he escaped the scene? She tried to imagine for the hundredth time what might have happened that night on Grier's Mountain. It was not something you would want to imagine. Blood and fatal curses and death... Hermione fell asleep quite bothered, with a frown upon her lovely face.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That morning, three Gryffindor second years awoke to find what seemed like two people. Curled up asleep in the once empty bed was _the _Draco Malfoy, the mysteriously missing boy who's face had been somewhere on the front-page of _The Daily Prophet_ for four whole months. The second years had heard all manner of silly and outrageous theories. Draco Malfoy was really dead, and the boy returning to Hogwarts was an impostor. Draco Malfoy was a demon. Draco Malfoy was Voldemort incarnate. Draco Malfoy had died and been brought back to life _by_ Voldemort. Or Lucius and Draco were really the same person.

The second person in the room was the _dreaded_ Draco Malfoy. The Malfoy they remembered from the last year who sneered or spat in their general direction, who pulled dirty Quidditch moves and tripped you in the hallway. Someone to be feared. Needless to say when they awoke to find _both_ of those people in their room they were nearly frozen with fear and awe. But Malfoy did appear to be deeply asleep and they weren't about to wake him up. So the three of them, Marro, Nick and Krowle got ready for breakfast quickly and left Malfoy to himself.

But Malfoy was in truth, not asleep. He had slept for one vaguely fitful hour until all too familiar nightmares woke him. He should've known better, he thought. And so he lay staring at his ceiling for the next three and a half hours until he heard another boy in the room stir and quickly turned over, pretending to be asleep. The last thing he needed was conversation with curious young Gryffindors.

He waited until they were gone, when he was sure all the other Gryffindor boys were out of the showers and then got ready for breakfast as quickly as he could, taking a fast rinse not even bothering to put a drying spell on his hair. He threw on his robes and his new Hogwarts cloak and made his way out into the hall. The last thing he wanted to do was be late to breakfast and draw attention to himself. He would much rather have not gone to breakfast at all but he figured it had to be done with sometime.

He ran a hand through his now wet hair trying to convince himself he was alright.

Draco softly sang a song he had learned out in the muggle world to himself, "We skipped the light fandango...you turned cartwheels across the floor..."

He slipped out into the empty hallway and all but ran down toward the main corridor.

_Don't let me be late... Don't let me be late... _

He was relieved, in a matter of speaking to see the usual hoard of studentia making their way to the dining hall. He stared at the floor and followed, trying not to be noticed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione watched Harry whip his head around like a nervous chipmunk as they strode down the hallway to breakfast.

"Where is he? Do you think he's here yet? Is he supposed to be at breakfast?"

Ginny chuckled, "Geez, Harry. Is he your enemy or your girlfriend?"

"You won't _believe_ what I heard last night!" Hermione hissed excitedly.

"Lemme guess," Ron said, raising an eyebrow, "you-know-who enrolled as a first year?"

Hermione tossed him an annoyed look.

"No, you prat. I _saw_ him! He got here in the middle of the night!"

"Did he?" Harry said shrilly. "I didn't... Where is he?"

"You won't believe what he said!"

Ron, Harry and Ginny stared at her with wide eyes,

"WHAT!" they all demanded simultaneously.

"He didn't- oof!"

Hermione didn't get her sentence out but instead was knocked forwards and onto the floor by somebody behind her. She caught herself on the palms on her hands, burning them slightly and rolled over to a sitting position.

Her friends stopped in the middle of the hall to help Hermione.

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked.

Hermione blew on her hands.

"Yeah, somebody just..."

Her words trailed off when she saw the very somebody sitting not three feet away and grumbling about his boot laces. A surge of automatic anger and indignance rose up in her at the sight of him. He just couldn't help but provoke that reaction in her.

"What're the odds?" Harry said dryly.

Draco Malfoy looked up from tying his boot to see the face of Hermione and above her to see Harry, Ron and Ginny all looking quite unhappy.

_Bloody..._

His eyes went wide as he rambled, "I'm sorry, I didn't..." He got up quickly, forgetting his lace. "Sorry."

Harry and Ron watched equally shocked to see a wet haired Malfoy apologize to Hermione Granger and then half stumble quickly down into the great hall.

"Never thought I'd live to see that," Ginny said, helping Hermione to her feet.

"I don't know where he thinks he's running to," said Ron, "we're all eating breakfast at the same table."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco saw the heads turning and stared at the floor but looked up when he realized he was making his way automatically to the Slytherin table. He grimaced to himself, turned around and walked back to Gryffindor. He felt not one pair of eyes on him but hundreds.

Ginny had her head tilted to one side and was picking at her pancakes.

"Well, he's got a nice tan," she said matter of factly.

"Hanging around Egypt for weeks will do that to a person," Hermione said with a shrug. "Actually, he does look a bit like a surfer sort now."

Ginny and Ron shot each other confused looks.

It was true, strange as it was. With his wet, white blonde hair, grown longer over the summer and his light tan, Malfoy could've passed for some American beach bum. Though the miserable look on his face and the black robes didn't exactly complete the look.

They watched mutely as Malfoy, staring at the floor, made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat down at the end next to a couple of first years. Everyone stared but no one actually spoke to him.

"This is all _very_ disconcerting," Harry said, grimacing.

"Just...er, think of him as a new student?" Hermione suggested.

Harry stared at her incredulously.

"You want us to think of the boy who once gave you beaver teeth as a new student?"

She stabbed at her sausage and grumbled, "I'm just trying to be a good tutor."

Ron, sitting next to Hermione, across from Harry and Ginny, looked lost in thought.

Ginny glanced from Hermione to the brooding "surfer" at the end of the table.

"Does he know about your little arrangement?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, squirming.

"I should think _you'd_ need some time to get used to the idea," Harry snorted.

Hermione heaved a sigh and explained, "I am attempting to be pragmatic about all this because I don't have all the facts. I am attempting to be a good prefect and a diplomat." She glanced down at Draco again, who was staring at his eggs and then leaned into her friends and hissed, "The truth is I have hated him since the first day I saw him and I still hate him. I don't know how _not_ to hate him but if I am going to be his tutor in the spirit of... whatever McGonagall or Dumbledore have up their respective sleeves then I have to at least _pretend_ he's not a malicious little sniveling arse."

She took a breath and sat back, tossing her fork to her plate.

"Tell us how you really feel," Harry said grinning.

"We're such bleedin' idiots!"

Harry, Ginny and Hermione stared at Ron who looked like he'd just caught another look at Snape's third eye.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked, swallowing his potatoes.

Ron leaned in, glanced down at the hapless Draco and spoke in whispers, "Hermione had a dream about a _green dragon _sleeping in the Gryffindor common room! And what does 'Draco' mean? Dragon, fellow idiots!"

Hermione slapped a hand to her head and cried, "And the green was for Slytherin!"

"She told us just before Dumbledore made that announcement! And you were petting his head and now you're his tutor!"

"Better not let this slip to Trelawney," Ginny advised. "She'll _never _leave you alone."

Harry's eyes lit up and said excitedly, "Hermione, maybe you're some kind of oracle or a dream prophetess!

"I'm not an oracle," Hermione said. "I had one coincidental dream...I mean, really we all had Malfoy on the brain anyway. My mind just made a couple of logical connections."

"Logical?" Ron yipped. "You were tickling his tummy!"

"Ron! I was tickling a _dragon's_ tummy! Dont let it get around school that I had some tummy tickling dream about Malfoy!"

Ginny looked over at Malfoy and bit her lip.

"Your new protégé seems to be freaking out."

They looked over to see Malfoy gripping the sides of his head, his eyes shut.

"He'll probably need arithmancy help tonight," she said wistfully. "That's the worst thing to fall behind on."

"Fine, " said Harry, "tutor him. Get him an A in Arithmancy. Just don't go tickling his tummy."

Draco choked down a few bites of breakfast and looked around him to see the sidelong glances of most of the dining hall. He gazed down the Gryffindor table to see Potter and his friends laughing, most likely at him. He looked upon Potter and the rest of them with a mixture of disdain, contempt, remorse, shame... basically all of the emotions he projected onto everything else lately. For as long as his father had been alive, Draco had been caught in the vice grip of his hate and his malice. At the same time he had wished his father dead more times then he could count. And now the bastard was gone. But at Draco's own hand. Every morning he faced the dawn with the same thought, _I killed my father..._ He was only sixteen years old but secure in the knowledge that he would have to live with that for the rest of his life. True, anyone who'd been there would agree it was purely a defensive measure. But that did little to ease his confusion.

Draco stared back down at his unfinished breakfast when a flash of red blocked his sight.

He gasped a little. It happened again. Draco put his hands on the sides of his head. It had happened before. A flash of red and a grinding noise.

"No..." he whispered.

He couldn't breathe, it was suddenly much too hot in the dining hall. The other younger Gryffindors eyed him strangely. Draco's breath came short as he shot up from his seat and rushed out of the dining hall.

The four at the other end of the table watched him go.

"There goes Malfoy," Ron sighed.

"Wonder what's up his arse..." Harry mumbled weakly. Truth be told Harry was intensely curious about the night Malfoy had disappeared. Whatever Malfoy had seen on Grier's Mountain, it sounded similar to what Harry had been through the night of Triwizard Tournament, if not worse. And the biggest question on his mind was weather or not Voldemort himself had been there. But despite Dumbledore's insistence of Malfoy's innocence, he couldn't bring himself to approach the now Gryffindor as anything but an enemy, much less request comparing notes. Harry allowed his mind to wander. It was possible that Malfoy had watched thirteen people die that night. It must've had some kind of effect on him.

He nudged Hermione and asked, "So, when does this tutoring business start anyway?"

"Tonight, I suppose. I thought I'd approach him about it after class."

Ron was glaring daggers at Malfoy's empty chair.

"You do know, Hermione, that if he so much as-"

She sighed, "Yes, Ron. No need to finish that sentence."

"I'm just saying."

Outside the dining hall, Dumbledore had inconspicuously left his seat to then find an ill looking Draco out in the corridor. The young man sat on the floor, his back against the wall, eyes closed, palms flat on the floor, breathing hard as if he'd just run three laps around the quidditch field.

Dumbledore stood in front of him and smiled sadly at the boy.

"Needed a little escape, did you?"

Draco opened his eyes and winced.

"Just...wanted some air," he said.

Dumbledore offered a hand and Draco grudgingly let the headmaster help him to his feet.

"I feel fine now, headmaster. If I could just..."

He gestured back toward the hall and started to turn only to feel a tug on his sleeve. Dumbledore nodded slowly at the front door of Hogwarts.

"The foliage is lovely this time of year."

Draco groaned slightly to himself and nodded, annoyed.

"Yes, Headmaster."

His perspective of Dumbledore had changed somewhat. He'd previously looked upon the headmaster with a sense of irritation and disgust, as a "muggle lover", or so his father had put it. But Dumbledore now knew his deepest secrets and perhaps more then that had visited him a few times when he'd been "recuperating," first at Ministry quarters in Luxor and then at Malfoy Manner. Draco had awoken to the concerned gaze of Dumbledore who sat stroking his chin, speaking in low tones to one ministry official or another. At the time Draco imagined he'd felt like Harry Potter must feel whenever he awoke after some adventure or another. Except that Harry Potter was loved by all, considered noble and heroic, and he, Draco Malfoy, was a Slytherin git who had killed his own father. Yet during those visits, Dumbledore had displayed a genuine interest in Draco's well being, even going so far as to stay for hours when Draco was alone and unspeaking. The two had developed somewhat of a rapport since his recovery.

Draco thought this over as he clasped his hands behind his back obediently and followed Dumbledore out of doors.

"I trust your quarters are acceptable," Dumbledore said diplomatically.

"Other then the fact that they're Gryffindor quarters, yes, they're comfortable."

Dumbledore paused under a reddening maple, the leaves crunching under their feet. The two of them stared out at the lake, Draco hoping this would be over soon.

"I remember your father quite well at this school."

Draco felt a stab of pain in his heart.

"Please, headmaster..."

But, of course, Dumbledore continued, "Slytherin, as you know. A perfect student and in most respects, not a troublemaker. He did not provoke other students unless they provoked him first and when that happened... Well, few dared. He was quiet and cold. Did not speak to much of anyone. His sixth year, Lucius took a boat out on the lake with, Rochelle, a Ravenclaw girl for an assignment in Magical Creatures. The girl said later that your father did not push her into the lake. That in her enthusiasm she leaned too far over the side and fell into the cold waters. She could not swim. Did not have her wand. The girl was drowning, and not near enough to the merpeople for them to see her. It was a second year Hufflepuff student out on the quidditch field who heard splashes echoing and sensed something was not right. The Hufflepuff ran all the way to the lake to see your father standing stoically in the boat, asked him what had happened. Lucius said Rochelle had fallen into the water and was drowning. And by the time the Hufflepuff found Rochelle in those watery depths, she was very nearly dead."

Draco stared at Dumbledore as he told his story, feeling the general queasiness in his stomach balloon into all out nausea.

"Of course, we could not expel Lucius. He had _done_ nothing wrong. And one cannot expel a student for a sin of omission. But from that day forward...Lucius Malfoy was one to be feared. And we knew then that he had chosen a darken path."

Dumbledore turned and eyed Draco carefully.

"It was the path he _chose_, Draco. The actions he chose. A man does what he thinks he must do. Your father thought he must choose evil instead of good. To cause suffering, to follow the ways of the dark lord. You know what kind of man your father was better then anyone, I think."

Draco looked out onto the lake and thought back to the childhood he would rather have forgotten, to lessons in pain, hate and suffering for the purposes of greater power.

"Yes," he breathed. "I do."

"And he chose to be that man. Hogwarts does not accept evil children, you know."

Draco's head snapped up. Sometimes Dumbledore's thoughts seemed to arise from nowhere.

"What?"

"Hogwarts," Dumbledore said slowly, "does not accept evil children. Do you know why?"

Draco shrugged, irritated.

"Bad for business?"

"Because there is no such thing as an evil child. A child does not choose between good or evil. He chooses what he is taught to do. But a _man_ makes a choice, as your father did.

And as his father chose and his father chose before him. As you must. You have seen now what evil does. What evil is. You saw it and you stood up to it."

Draco felt his heart surge and tears behind his eyes but he suppressed it.

"I know it is difficult, Draco-"

"You know," he whispered, shaking his head. "But you can never understand."

"Will you think on what I have said?"

Dumbledore could usually tell when he was on the verge of pushing a student too far.

Draco nodded mutely.

"Very well," Dumbledore said with a sigh. They turned and started making their way back up to the castle doors. "Professor Mcgonagall and I had some concerns about your schoolwork, considering your absence."

"I'll be fine," Draco grumbled.

"Too assure a smooth transition we've paired you with a tutor from the Gryffindor house who can offer you assistance in catching up."

Draco stopped short and shut his eyes.

"Don't tell me. Hermione Granger."

"Excellent guess, Draco."

"So to ensure a smooth transition you paired me with a girl who's blacklist solely consists of me and he who must not be named?"

"We did not force her, Draco. We asked her if she wanted to tutor you and she accepted the position. She had nothing to gain from it."

"Allow me to jump for joy," Dracy said wryly. Yet inside he took quick note of this. That Hermione Granger, of all people, a girl already with plenty on her plate as prefect and as a brilliantly accomplished student, and someone he had continually humiliated would take on the job of tutor toward none other then Draco Malfoy was something of an aberration.

_More like a blasphemy_, he thought to himself, _or maybe she has some crazy masochistic streak._

Dumbledore was chuckling, "I'm certain, Draco, that if you bring this sense of humor to the studying table, the two of you will get along quite well."

Draco doubted that. Hermione had always seemed like a girl with the humor of a jackhammer. Then again, she'd seldom had cause to laugh or make a joke in his presence.

"Did you ever think last year that you would someday be induced to sleep on Gryffindor sheets?"

Draco sighed.

_I still don't sleep on Gryffindor sheets, _he thought ironically.

"You've had quite a rough start of it. And the road ahead is rocky. But I am sure, Draco, that if you allow it, this year will have some interesting surprises in store for you."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Following a particularly difficult last class in arithmancy, Hermione entered the common room with a grim determination.

_Guess it's Malfoy time_, she thought.

After changing into something a little more comfortable, in this case a white t-shirt and jeans, she took a seat at a table near the fire to await Malfoy's arrival. Instead she was greeted by Harry and Ginny, who incidentally looked a bit flushed to Hermione.

"I know who _you're_ waiting for," Ginny said slyly.

"Are you sure you're not being punished for something?" Harry asked. "How is tutoring Malfoy not the seventh circle of hell?"

"Yeah, but I agreed to do it," she said, looking forlorn. "Don't know why. Must be my masochistic streak."

They were interrupted by the devil himself who walked in, saw them, stopped short and then appeared to remember he was _supposed_ to be in the Gryffindor house and kept walking.

Hermione watched him, wondering if he'd even been told who his tutor was.

"Um...Malfoy?" she called out.

"Tutoring. I know. I'm just going to change first," he said softly.

Draco went to his room and Hermione looked back at her friends.

"It's going to be a strange year."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ya think?"

They chitted and chatted until they were interrupted again, this time by a sight that brought raised eyebrows all around the common room. If there was one thing Malfoy had been known for other then his smirking, snarky mouth it was his total rejection of anything related to muggle culture. No one had ever seen him wearing anything that wasn't brought at a fine clothing store in Knockturn Alley. Yet the Malfoy now before them wore a black polo shirt and dark brown trousers as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Hermione couldn't seem to pick her jaw up off the floor as Malfoy walked down the stairs and stood near the table, books under one arm, looking totally awkward.

Harry gathered his wits about him and took a breath after an uncomfortably silent pause.

"Yes, well...We've got to see a man about a...flying car so..."

Hermione nodded.

"See you at dinner," she said.

Ginny smiled at her reassuringly and the two left to go find Ron on the quidditch field.

Malfoy looked shifty.

"Erm..."

Hermione noticed that everyone in the common room was still staring at the two of them so she took the initiative.

"Library?" she asked.

Malfoy shrugged so Hermione got up and he followed her out into the corridor. They walked in silence and were almost to the library when Hermione stopped short. She seemed to be staring at his trousers.

"What are those? Dockers?"

Draco frowned.

"Oh...I don't know."

"Nevermind."

They walked on and Hermione did well maintaining a neutral exterior, while inside all she could think was _git, git, git!_

Hermione pushed open the door to the library only to see a more staring faces. She held her head up and walked in, Malfoy at her heels, finally finding a secluded corner in the back.

Hermione set her things on the table and sat, Malfoy sitting across from her.

"So...Malfoy..."

She saw him wince.

"I don't... I don't really want to be called that anymore."

Hermione narrowed her eyes.

_Oh, _she thought, _just like I didn't want to be called "mudblood?"_

"Why not?" she shot back.

He opened his arithmancy book and stared at it.

"I just don't."

Dumbledore's words ran through her head again.

_I would ask of all of you that you treat him with courtesy..._

For some reason, Malfoy had received absolution from the one person that could truly bestow it at Hogwarts.

She took out last month's notes.

"Fine then...Derrraaco," she said slowly. She strung the name out and her lips twitched. It felt alien. "Draco."

It felt like saying a very bad word or like saying "sex" aloud for the first time. She tapped a quill on her parchment, and tried to get used to the feeling.

"Draco, Draco, Draco..."

He cleared his throat and thumbed to the first chapter.

"Yes," he said, as if in confirmation.

"To be fair, you should call me-"

He looked in her eyes for the first time.

"Hermione," he said firmly.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. Now that _did _feel odd.

"Right," she said, "well, now that we've got names down, you want to start with arithmancy?"


	2. Prologue: The City of the Dead

**Sympathy for the Slytherin**

**Disclaimer: **Didn't write it. JK wrote it. Thanks, JK.

**Author's Notes:** This would be my first real HP fic. Hope atcha like it. Takes place 6th year at Hogwarts.

**Author: (Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Ron/Other)**

Death eaters, murders, kisses, nightmares, dark lords, black t-shirts, close escapes, kidnappings, suicidal tendencies, tutors, flashbacks, friendships, runaways, fear, loathing, truth, beauty, freedom and above all love, plus this sentence: "What Draco desires more then anything is redemption. And that is what I intend for him to find."

**Prologue:**

**The City of the Dead**

It was in one of the garbage towns that they found him. Not far from Mar Girgis, or what is commonly known as Coptic Cairo. In the City of the Dead, in the catacombs where the silent live, he was found rather unexpectedly, curled up amongst Muggle trash heaps. Two ministry investigators, one rather disenchanted with his assignment and both still more disenchanted with not only Cairo but _muggle_ Cairo went mostly out of curiosity to the seemingly endless stretch of ancient ruins in the middle of loud, grimy Egypt. There was rumored to be a sort of oracle there among the ashes, a witch who saw people that didn't want to be seen.

They did not find the oracle, instead they found the boy.

It was what a young Coptic Egyptian had said to them when they asked around carefully, for the oracle.

"No...no gray lady...a magic child. Like you!"

He did not bring them to the boy, but gestured in the right direction.

It seemed too much to hope for, after scouring London...and then England and then most of western Europe until a faint clue, a misplaced key found in Edinborough by a ministry peon led them to Cairo.

The two officers walked between three and two walled structures, among piles of garbage and attempts at shelter and crying infants and tired mothers and turned a corner and found him.

The second investigator by the name of Andrew, an American rookie of muggle parentage and a graduate of Hogwarts had followed this case since it's first report. He felt vested in his search by now. Andrew would later remember with interest that the boy, himself a young man by now was, in fact, not asleep at all but simply staring ahead at the thousand year old brick wall in front of him. They only recognized him by his hair. He stood out easily among the darker complexioned Arabs around him. His hair, dirty, oily but still of it's silverish tint, especially in the full moonlight seemed to glimmer. He lay on his side, hugging a sack. He wore his school cloak, the Hogwarts monogram barely seen under a layer of dirt and something that looked like blood.

They saw his hair and they knelt down, knowing he would not run.

"Draco?" Andrew said softly.

And speaking to him, though they knew he would not answer.

"Can you hear me?"

They looked in his eyes and Andrew saw that they were not vacant at all, though Draco may have wanted them to seem so. But instead they were full of everything he bore and everything he had seen and could not turn from.

The older investigator sighed.

"We'd better get him to ministry quarters."

Andrew picked up Draco Malfoy's seemingly lifeless hand that was dirty and scratched. It was like a boy's hand and also like a man's.

"Draco?"

The young wizard stared and did not blink.

"Can you hear me?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Four months following the death of Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa found herself staring at her uneaten breakfast when Luqy, the house elf, hesitantly hobbled into the room looking appropriately nervous.

"Madam! An official ministry owl has come with official ministry urgent message, Madam! Would Madam like her message?"

Narcissa felt her heart in her throat, "Yes! At once!"

Luqy scampered away and a moment later a chestnut spotted ministry owl perched on the chair next to her. Narcissa took the parcel from the owl's talons with shaking fingers and unrolled it.

_From: Ministry of Magic _

_Missing Persons Investigations Division_

_Lady Malfoy, _

_Concerning the whereabouts of your son, Draco Malfoy, he has been recovered alive in Cairo, Egypt. He is in stable condition at Ministry Quarters in Luxor but will be apperated to the Malfoy residence with delivery of reply. He was not well enough to be questioned on any matter at time of recovery. Please send reply as soon as possible._

_Best Regards, _

_Mernchin Bun_

Narcissa's heart slipped back down her throat and instead began to race at an alarming speed.

Four months. Four months following her most wished for desire come true and her worst fear all in the same moment. Four months having no idea where her child was. Child. He had turned sixteen just days ago. She had wept for hours, shut up in her room on that day.

And now he would be home.

She quickly scratched out a reply in uneasy handwriting.

_Mr. Bun, _

_You'll never know how grateful I am for your work on this matter. Thank you. Send Draco immediately._

_Thank you again, _

_Narcissa Malfoy_

She tied the note to the owl's talon and sent him away, staring down at the long awaited letter. She had doubted long ago. But still she insisted they search. He was not dead, she said. She would have felt it.

_He was not well enough to be questioned on any matter..._

That was the troubling statement. In stable condition but not well enough to be questioned... Narcissa had known early enough that should Draco actually be recovered he would certainly have a story to tell. Assuming all the evidence was correct. It had taken weeks for her to come to terms with the possibility that he might be traumatized in some serious way. And certainly the ministry would want to speak to him when it was possible.

_...not well enough..._

How bad was it, she wondered...

And yet, the thrill returned, he was alive.

He was alive.

And she could go on.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It took two weeks from his arrival home before he spoke. Narcissa left him in bed. Cared for him almost obsessively all day, constantly consulting with the ministry doctor who had cared for him in Luxor. Dr. Glass said he was surprised Draco had come around so soon. Certainly he was physically well by now. Recovered only from a few minor injuries and one major half healed one, Draco still lay in bed, nearly catatonic. Narcissa insisted that there must be something the healing wizard could do.

Dr. Glass always said the same thing.

"It's in his mind, Lady Malfoy. He will reveal himself only when he wishes to."

Finally, Narcissa sent the doctor away. But she continued her ministrations over Draco.

Until one day as she took away another untouched breakfast tray, he grabbed her wrist.

She was so startled she dropped the dishes, baronay eggs, firth tea and all to shatter on the floor. She sat on the edge of the bed, tears falling and clutched his shoulders as he stared at her imploringly.

"Mother..." He whispered, his brow furrowing as if it were a new word.

She held his face in her hands and wept, "Draco! My son..."

He looked down and she started to see a return to something like reality in his eyes.

"Mother...I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "No..." She pulled him into an embrace and she wept because he could not.

"I killed him," He breathed, no inflection to his voice, "I killed him...I killed him."


	3. Nightmares and the Sweet Talking Dragon

**Sympathy for the Slytherin**

**Author's Notes:** This is insanely enjoyable to write. Thank you for the reviews. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2: Nightmares and the Sweet Talking Dragon**

Days passed and Hermione found herself obligated to help Draco with his work nearly every night. She could tell what nights he would need it most. In the classes they had in common, transfiguration, potions and arithmancy, when she saw him staring off into space, she knew she would not only have to catch him up on old concepts but review him on the new ones for that day. It was a bit taxing, but she found herself a capable tutor. Her friends asked eagerly what Draco was like during his sessions, and Hermione had to be honest. He spoke little and he was distant and stand offish, but he was also polite. She noticed also, though Draco was trying to hide it, that he was physically exhausted. He looked like he hadn't slept since his arrival and the tan he'd brought back to school with him, had already begun to fade. Every moment she spent with him, her old perspective of Draco degraded a little bit more. By their fourth session, she couldn't say she hated him. There was no reason too. The Draco she so despised seemed gone. This was a different person who, she surmised, needed help. She tried to keep up a neutral, dispassionate exterior towards him but during their next session she finally gave in.

On a Tuesday night before dinner, Hermione sat next to Draco at their usual secluded table in the corner of the library.

"So, there are three stars for the fourth prophesy of Tapione. But only two of them have to be in alignment for..."

He was staring off into space again, "Draco?"

He looked at her quickly, "Hmm? Tapione. I'm listening."

"You're a million miles away." She sighed.

"I'm listening," He insisted, "Four stars in alignment. Go on."

"Two. Draco, I don't know if this is working. I think you need...something else."

He frowned, "What? Need what?"

She examined his face, "Well, sleep for one thing. Look, at you. You've got bags under your eyes like a frobber hag."

Draco shook his head, "I'm not sure what that is but I'm positive I don't look like one."

"Do you get _any _sleep?"

He blew it off, "What's all this concern for my well being? You're my tutor, not my nurse maid."

It was first time he'd been anything approaching sarcastic around her. It was jarring, like a flash backward to a part of the old Draco. She wondered if he knew who he was anymore.

"Yes, " She said, "I'm your tutor and if you're sleep deprived, it effects your performance."

He sat up, "I mix my own pepper-up potion, alright? Works like a charm."

She nodded, "So why aren't you sleeping?"

He glanced at an imaginary watch, "Oh hey, time for dinner. We should really run."

He'd stood up and turned his right wrist palm up to look at a time piece that wasn't there and it was then that Hermione noticed his hand. There were several thick pink scars cutting across his palm and fingers. Hermione had never seen anything like it. It looked as if he'd slashed his own hand with a carving knife a few times. She stood up, nearly knocking over her chair.

"Draco! What is that?" She gasped.

Draco saw her staring at his hand and clutched it to his chest.

"Nothing. Seriously. I'm famished, how 'bout you?"

"C'mon, let me see..."

Draco looked down at the brown shiny head of hair and the face of the girl who looked up at him not with any morbid curiosity or suspicion but with something that looked like concern. He held his hand against his chest but she stood there, silently, prying his fingers gently from their grip on his shirt.

"It's okay, " She whispered, "Just let me..."

He hardly knew why but he let her pry his hand away and she held it in both of hers, touching the long scars in wonder.

"Doesn't that hurt?"

He sighed, "I have potion for that too. Kills the pain."

Her pleading eyes looked back up into his, "I never saw it before. They look pretty recent. How did it happen? When you were missing?"

He snatched his hand away and started gathering up his books.

"I'll tell you when I'm drunk and you're dead. Dinner time."

"You can tell me, " She said softly, "Strange as it may sound. I won't tell anyone. Not even Harry or Ron. No one."

"I can't." He whispered, "I just... I can't."

She nodded, "Okay. Well... I'll go to dinner with you anyway."

Draco looked startled, but not disappointed.

"It'll only cause problems."

She shook her head, "Problems schmoblems. You'll be fine."

"A delicate sense of the language, you have there. " He quipped.

Hermione chuckled, glad to have brought out the old comical side of Draco, which without the insults, was somewhat enjoyable.

It was the first time they'd left from tutoring to go to dinner _together _even though the both of them always stopped at the house first to drop off their books and got to the Gryffindor table at the same time. This time they walked leisurely down the corridors together, Hermione examining his outfits once again. Draco had continued to wear only muggle clothes whenever possible and tonight he wore a forest green v-neck sweater and black chinos. And now, considering their sudden turn toward some kind of friendship she had to ask him.

"If I ask you a different question, will you answer it?"

Draco steeled himself, "That would depend."

"Why do you wear muggle clothes now? It's so unlike you. I thought you hated muggle things."

She saw him smile just a little bit for the first time since his arrival back.

"When I was gone... I only hid in muggle areas. That was the first time I really saw what muggle life is like. Turns out I like some muggle stuff after all."

"Well, the clothes work for you. What else do you like about the muggle world?"

"The music," He said. And this time she was sure he'd started to smile, "I liked the music."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley leisurely strolled back toward their dorms having dropped off three buckets of slop left over from the great hall for Hagrid's new litter of Bitsy Boars. They'd knocked on his door and Hagrid opened it just a crack, thanking them quickly for the fresh slop.

"But Hagrid," Harry insisted, "What's a Bitsy Boar? I've never seen one!"

"They're sleeping now!' Hagrid whispered, "Very tiny! Can't take the excitement!"

With that Hagrid shut the door, Harry turned back to Ginny and sighed dramatically.

"He gets so moody around new creatures."

The started walking back, "I've heard of Bitsy Boars, " Said Ginny, "but they're not that interesting outside of the green spots and the laughing. I wonder what Hagrid's doing with them."

Harry stared at Ginny, distracted, "I dunno."

The two had become closer over the past year. Ginny's little girl crush on Harry had transformed into something more mature, an understanding of him that had nothing to do with hero status. To Harry, Ginny now seemed like the only girl besides Hermione who didn't look to him with some kind of expectation. And more then that she'd also become the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts in Harry's eyes, with her delicate red curls and porcelain skin. They seemed now to be dancing around each other, nothing holding Harry back but silly insecurities. But this year, he'd promised himself he would tell her how he felt. And now seemed a good a time as any. With the new resolve in his mind, his heart started to beat like a clog dancing banshee.

_Just do it, _he thought wildly, _you know she feels the same way, just do it._

He stopped under a tree of delicate leaves turning sunset colors for the fall. Ginny stopped walking and turned around.

"What's the matter?"

He gazed at her in her muggle outfit, a soft white sweater and a brown skirt. She'd pulled her hair back from her face but that one stubborn red curl still fell over her eye. It was Harry's very favorite curl.

"The matter is..." He mumbled, hardly able to breath, "I have to talk to you."

She stepped closer, under the veil of leaves, "What is it?"

Harry reached out for her hand and started playing with her fingers.

"I have to...er..." Harry rolled his eyes, "I have feelings...about someone. And I don't know how to tell them. So I...need your advice."

Ginny smiled coyly but Harry could see the joy in her eyes, "Ah, feelings. Are they good feelings?"

He nodded, "Oh, yes. Very good feelings."

Ginny looked down at their hands and played her fingers through his, "It might help, if you told me who this person is."

Harry grinned, "Well, she has red hair..."

"Mmmhmm."

"And one little curl, " He said huskily, "That falls over her eye..."

Ginny bit her lip and Harry went on, "And she bites her lip when she's nervous..."

Ginny laughed, "Maybe it's because she's happy."

"I'm in love with a Weasley, Ginny." Harry blurted.

Ginny looked jubilant, "Well, Ron _can_ be irresistible."

Harry put a stop to the talking and laced his fingers through Ginny's.

"Ginny..."

"I love you too, silly boy."

Harry felt his heart about to burst and leaned in to kiss her. She tasted like apple cider and he couldn't resist reaching up to fiddle with her bright orange curls. Ginny's lips trembled. She'd waited for this moment for years, first as a silly blushing girl who couldn't help but go weak kneed at the sight of Ron's cute friend who also happened to be The Boy Who Lived. And now he wasn't Harry Potter: Boy Hero, he was _Harry_. Harry with that funny boyish grin, endlessly loyal to his friends and equally brave. Harry with the adorably mussy hair and green eyes to get lost in, who made her laugh and challenged her to be a better person.

He leaned back, "Your lips are trembling."

She blushed a deep pink, "That was my first kiss. Unless you count Colin pecking me on the cheek."

"I don't." He caressed the very cheek with his thumb, "And here's for your second."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After Hermione and Draco dropped off their books in their respective dorms, they met back in the common room, only to bump into Harry, Ron and Ginny who seemed to be regarding Hermione critically. Tensions were high. Draco had done nothing to further anyone's dislike but Ron and Harry particularly, still considered him as one not to be trusted. They were civil as much as they did not speak to him and generally avoided him. Harry stuck his hands in his pockets as he watched one of his best friends walked down the stairs with, supposedly, his second least favorite arch nemesis. He kicked one foot with the other. Meanwhile, Ron, who'd been particularly edgy lately looked about ready to pop and Ginny stood fidgeting nervously.

"So, " Hermione said with a sigh, "We going to dinner or are we just going to stand around like idiots waiting for the food to hit our mouths?"

"_We_?" Demanded Ron, "_We_ should go to dinner?"

Hermione stared him down, "Yes, Ron. We. We as in us, as in a bunch of sixth year _Gryffindors_ leaving our Gryffindor house to sit at the Gryffindor table together as Gryffindors. That's what Gryffindors do."

Draco started backing away, "Just forget it, you know, I'm not even hungry-"

"What?" Asked Ron, stepping forward, "Too good to eat with us?"

Hermione cleared her throat, "Okay, prefect calls a conference. Right now. Over here, please." She yanked Harry, who had stood glaring at Draco and Ron to an opposite corner of the room.

Ginny rocked on the balls of her feet, standing awkwardly next to Draco.

"So..." She said breezily, "How 'bout those Cannons?"

Hermione eyed her best friends with a steely gaze, "Alright look, I know this is difficult. Sworn enemy, death eater's son and bla bla bla. But you're going to have to get _over _that and give him a second chance."

Harry sighed and scratched his forehead, "I just wish I knew what he did or didn't do that Dumbledore thinks makes him so innocent."

Ron continued to look generally stubborn so Hermione threw out her wild card, "I'll tell you a secret too. That night I saw Draco arriving, I heard him say that _he_ chose to leave Slytherin."

Ron looked too shock to speak.

"No way!" Hissed Harry.

"He wants starting over and if you two are so concerned about his past then I suggest you take it up with Dumbledore. Since Draco won't say a word."

"What did you ask him?" Said Harry, now much more interested.

"He's got these horrible scars on his hand. He wouldn't tell me how he got them."

Ron was frowning, "Scars? He could fix that right enough with a healing potion. He could probably make it himself."

Hermione shrugged.

"Alright, " Said Harry, "We'll trust your judgment then."

He looked at Ron expectantly.

"Alright, " Said Ron, "But if I die a slow gory death at the hands of a bunch of bloody toothed death eaters, you are _not_ invited to the funeral."

Hermione gave him a look, "I'll make a note."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione sat next to a typically distant Draco, across from Ron, Ginny and Harry who was scratching his forehead feverishly.

Ginny took a swig of pumpkin juice, a worried look on her pretty face.

"Is it your scar?" She asked him, "Does it hurt?"

Harry grimaced, "It doesn't hurt but it's...it's itchy. Like when your foot falls asleep. It's all... tingly."

"I hate that feeling!" Ron exclaimed, "Bad enough in the foot."

"Yeah, " He said, "Well, my whole forehead feels like that."

"Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey, " Ginny suggested.

"Yeah, maybe, " He mumbled.

Draco sat silent, staring at his spaghetti while Hermione talked to her friends about class and gossip and nonsense. He even noticed Ron nearly bringing up Draco's own name only to remember himself and become quiet. Draco felt a wave of exhaustion and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the rough ridges of his scars against his cheek. He wanted to sleep. It was killing him. But he couldn't so much as nap for a half hour without the dark visions returning and even now as he shut his eyes he could almost hear that voice aloud.

_Bring me the boy..._

He took a breath and opened his eyes to see the four other Gryffindors staring at him strangely.

"What?" He barked defensively.

Hermione swallowed, "You've been sitting like that for about ten minutes."

Draco looked irritated but not surprised, "Oh...well, I'm just...upset because... I was hoping for alfredo sauce."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Whatever you say, Draco."

He clenched his scarred hand reflexively, reminding himself to take more pain potion later. And perhaps some extra pepper-up as well.

The five were silent when Ron spoke suddenly, "That's exactly what _I _thought!"

The confused looks whipped from Draco to Ron.

"What are you _talking_ about?" Harry asked.

Ron gave him a look, "About what you just said! About Hufflepuff using a more defensive strategy at the last game."

"Ron, I haven't said anything for five minutes. I haven't even brought up quidditch. Must be something in your pumpkin juice."

"But I _heard_ you!" Ron insisted.

Hermione leaned her chin on her hand and sighed.

_Yep, typical day at Hogwarts..._

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione sat, tapping her foot wildly during potions and copying down formulas. Next to her Draco was half writing notes, half staring at the wall. She'd decided he would sit next to her in their common classes so she could watch his progress, which was exactly going swimmingly. On her other side sat Ron, eyes screwed up in attention and looking very aggravated. He'd complained since lunch about a "buzzing" in his head and a wretched migraine the day before. Next to Ron sat Harry who was taking notes with one hand and rubbing his forehead raw with the other.

"Sssshhh, " Ron hissed, "I'm actually trying to concentrate here!"

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, "Ron, we haven't said a word."

"Whatever!" He whispered fervently, "Just _shut up_ already."

"Errrr..." Harry moaned quietly, "It's like a bunch of flobber worms in my head!"

Draco was now mumbling some muggle tune, "There's a girl who believes all that glitters is gold..."

Hermione put her head in her hands.

_I am sitting next to three completely insane people..._

"YOU FOUR!"

Hermione cringed at the thundering voice of Snape.

"I can't hear myself _think_! And unlike my students, I consider that an enjoyable pass time! Ten points from Gryffindor!"

Hermione growled in defeat.

_And they are dragging me down with them._

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

On a Friday evening, Hermione and Draco sat at a table in the common room, Draco ostensibly memorizing characteristics of various unpleasant creatures from Defense Against the Dark Arts. The common room was empty that night as outside the unusual event of an after dinner quidditch night game took place between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Hermione had been sure Draco would want to go but he'd shrugged and said he wasn't interested. This time it was Hermione staring off into space. There were almost too many things to worry about. Between Draco's mysterious past, Harry's bothersome itching and Ron's sudden bout of schizophrenia she wasn't sure whether to go running to Dumbledore or diagnose _herself_ with madness.

She was about heave a sigh when Draco beat her too it.

"Octrul phantoms can be fought off if you enchant one of their eight legs to start dancing, " He recited in a monotone, "And moo-toos will die if you poke them in the eye with a sharp stick and if I have to read about the manipulative mental powers of sea serpents again, I'm going to..."

He'd been about to say he would kill somebody but stopped just short.

Hermione leaned her cheek on her hand, "Well, have you got them down?"

He set his arms down on the desk and rested his head on them.

"Perfectly. Can't we talk about something else for a while?"

Hermione was shocked. _Draco_ wanted to talk?

"What do you want to talk about?" She asked.

"Anything..." He looked about ready to fall asleep, "What do your parents do for a living?"

She smiled.

_If I didn't know better, I'd say we were becoming friends._

"They're dentists." She said sleepily.

Draco looked lost, "What's that mean?"

She chuckled, "You mean you never came across dentists in your extensive travels amidst the muggles in their native habitat?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Oddly, no. I was busy scrounging for food."

Hermione looked surprised and Draco winced, as if he'd said too much.

She let it slide, "A dentist fixes teeth. _Without_ magic."

Draco smirked, "Well, obviously. So what's that like?"

Hermione had to laugh. It felt odd, to say the least, to be discussing her parents' dental careers with anyone, least of all Draco.

"Um...say you have a toothache or something. You go down to see them and you sit in this big chair, almost on your back so they can see in your mouth. And they have all kinds of tools... metal picks and mirrors and little vacuums to suck the spit out. And if they need to they might drill... do you know what a drill is?"

Draco shook his head, wide eyed. Hermione surmised that his lack of knowledge on these things stemmed not only from growing up in a militantly pureblood wizard family but from avoiding manual labor his entire life.

She went on, "It's like a big giant...screw. It's electric. They plug it in and it makes holes in things. Are you with me?"

Draco coughed, "Oh, sure," He said easily, "I know lots about screwing."

"Draco!" Hermione yipped, laughing despite herself. She went on, "_Anyway_, they might drill into your teeth if they have too. But first they shoot needles of Novocain into your gums, of course. Or sometimes if they have to take an x-ray you have to bite down on these plates and they put a big lead apron on your lap so you won't someday die of radiation and-

Draco was gawking at her, horrified.

"What's the matter?" She asked innocently.

"And they call _dementors_ evil? Crikey, thank Merlin for magic."

Hermione couldn't help laughing, "Oh? I thought you liked muggle things now."

Draco squirmed, "I said I liked the music and the clothes, not giant metal instruments of torture."

Draco's eyes felt heavy and he sighed like a child.

"Tell me about something else." He whispered.

Hermione leaned farther on her hand, closer to the table.

"Erm...about what?"

"Anything." Draco breathed.

"Well..." Hermione dug for a random topic in her mind, "I went to America once."

"Mmmhmm."

"I was five, " She whispered, "And we flew to Hawaii in a big muggle airplane and we stayed in a fancy hotel."

"Mmm."

She saw Draco's eyelids drooping and continued to talk him to sleep in a rhythmic melody of soft whispers, "And my mum and I went snorkeling in the clear blue sea..."

She watched them droop a bit more and a little bit more, "And we saw blue and yellow fish...and bright red fish...and jelly fish and bat rays..."

She babbled about sharks and dolphins and heard his breathing start to regulate, "And palm trees swayed in the breeze...and we drank coconut milk straight from the coconut..."

He was asleep now but Hermione was afraid to move for fear of waking him up. She now suspected that Draco _could_ sleep but was avoiding it.

_Probably nightmares or something, _she thought.

She let him sleep while quietly doing her own homework at the table. She finished the last sentence on a transfiguration essay that wasn't due for two weeks and then sat back and gazed down at her tutoree. He was sleeping almost desperately. She could see it on his face, he was not relaxed but looked like he was squeezing all the sleep out of sleep that he could. She closed all her books, set her papers in order and took them back to her room. She came back and smiled at the sight of Draco splayed out on the table. After gently removing papers from under his cheek, she put his things together and took them back to his room, resisting the urge to snoop for a clue to the mystery of Malfoy. She went back to the common room and sat at a chair next to the table in front of the fire.

"Meowr?"

Crookshanks brushed against her legs and Hermione picked up the sizable feline and set her on her lap.

_Let's see...got Crookshanks...got the dragon...maybe I should go tickle his tummy?_

She giggled at the thought and looked up at the clock. It was nearly ten and Hermione figured the game was going long. Even with the giant charmed candles suspended over the field, it was probably difficult to spot the snitch at night. She wondered why Draco hadn't gone to the game. She'd assume he still loved quidditch even if he'd come too late in the term to play.

_Then again, he'd be playing for Gryffindor and he certainly couldn't have been the seeker...then again if he'd come early he probably wouldn't _be _in Gryffindor_...

Hermione shook her head, "I'm cracking up, Crookshanks. I blame it on these loopy boys of mine."

He'd been asleep for nearly three hours now and she supposed she should wake him up and try to get him to fall asleep in his own bed before a bunch of loud and sweaty quidditch fans made their epic return.

She set Crookshanks back on the carpet and crouched down next to Draco.

"Draco." She whispered. No response.

She sighed, feeling the weirdness of the situation.

"Draco..." She said a little louder.

"Mmph." He turned his head to face her, still asleep.

Hermione smiled, "Draco, c'mon... you've got to go to bed."

"Never tomatoes," He mumbled sleepily.

She giggled, "Goofball." She touched his arm and he stirred, "Time to go to bed."

Draco's woke slowly to see two cheerful looking, long lashed brown eyes. He sat up and took a deep breath.

"Was I asleep?" He asked stupidly.

"Like the dead. Go to bed already."

Draco sat feeling a little puzzled, "How long did I sleep?"

"Almost three hours, you're going to have a wretched knot in your neck tomorrow but I thought it was better then napping in class."

"I've never-"

Hermione put on her stern face, "Yes you have. But the professors seem to be leaving you be for now. They won't forever so go to bed and sleep."

"Three hours..." He mumbled. It was the longest he'd slept all at once in a long time without any nightmares. And now that he thought of it, he had dreamt but they were pleasant dreams. He'd dreamt of a tropical island, of sparkling blue oceans and glittering palms and...vegetables.

Hermione sat on the table smirking, "And what do you have against tomatoes anyway?"

Draco blinked, "Tomatoes? I don't like them."

"You said 'never tomatoes' in your sleep."

Draco rubbed his eyes, "I dreamt we were making salad on a beach."

Hermione cocked her head to one side, "What'd I do? Try to add tomatoes?"

Draco got up and stretched, "Yes."

"But you don't like tomatoes."

"Right."

"Makes sense. Only I don't like tomatoes either."

Draco leaned on the chair next to Hermione, "At least we're clear on _that_ issue. Because if you liked tomatoes, you and I could never be-"

He stopped himself, feeling awkward.

Hermione could tell what he'd been about to say but she let it go.

"Draco, as your tutor. I would like to give you a piece of wisdom to take you through life's journey. _Go _to _bed_."

"Yes, professor."

Draco trudged off to his room just as Hermione heard noises from the corridors. He ambled to his room and lay down on the bed wondering if he could get through another six hours without a nightmare. He decided to give it a shot and didn't bother to change into his pajamas but just crawled under the covers and fell to slumber.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That night, Draco had another dream.

_Lucius stood before him, black robes billowing in the cold gusty wind on the cliff of Grier's Mountain overlooking an angry gray sea._

_Two other death eaters stood gripping Draco's arms as he struggled._

"_WHY MUST YOU DEFY ME!" Lucius roared, "Why now when this could be our proudest moment!"_

_Draco wasn't listening to his father, instead he just screamed with all that was in him,"You're a coward! You'd moan and groan and say you wanted out of the circle! That's why you ran from the mark and then you went running back to him! COWARD!"_

"_Foolish boy! You know very well what all this has been for! What you have been _raised_ to be!"_

"_I will not join you! You taught me muggles are like vermin, mudbloods are dirty and unworthy! You said they have no souls! And maybe they are, I don't know anymore! Fun for a lark to throw them up in the sky and watch the stupid muggles! But this..." He looked away to the chaos around him, to the other death eaters chasing down the victims that had escaped by Draco's hand. "You kill children! That girl in the dungeon, she was pleading for her life! How can you say she has no soul when she pled for her life!"_

"_You know what it is to be a death eater, Draco! To serve our Lord! It is your destiny! You cannot turn from it! And if you do, you will only fall with the rest of them. I _will _kill you if you get in my way! Which you appear to be doing right now!"_

_Lucius held a sword that was really a wand in one hand that pointed at his son, in his other hand he held a glowing orange stone that looked like fire._

"_This was supposed to be over..." Draco said pitifully._

_The stone glowed brighter, the father glared down at his son who looked in his eyes only to see them turn a horrifying blood red, "No, my boy. It is just the beginning."_

_Several things happened at once. From the corner of his eye, Draco saw someone who looked suspiciously like Albus Dumbledore and four other angry looking wizards swooping nearer the mountain on Firebolts. The death eaters holding Draco had just noticed this and were on the verge of warning Lucius who was now staring entranced, at the orange stone that was beginning to project a blinding white light. Lucius stared at the stone and almost as an afterthought, was pointing the sword at Draco saying, "Avada Kad-"_

_But before he could get the spell out Draco had wrenched the sword away from Lucius with his bare hands. He felt the agony of the double edged steel blade cutting into the soft flesh of palm and for a moment as he held the sword and Lucius attempted to maintain his grip and focus on the stone at the same time, Draco felt a hot burning surge through his body as if boiling water had been poured through his veins. Feeling a sudden bout of near superhuman strength, Draco pulled the sword away, whipped around and slashed wildly at the two death eaters holding him, turned back and swiped at Lucius' hand, knocking the burning stone to the ground._

_His father's eyes glowed red again, "NOOO!"_

_Without a moment's thought, Draco surged forward and with his bloodied hand, ran the sword through his father's chest. Lucius fell to the ground, eyes blazing, "You can't escape it, boy." He wheezed._

_Draco gave the sword a final thrust and hissed at his father, "Avada kedavra, you bloody bastard."_

_Draco watched the red eyes turn back to his father's dull blue, now lifeless. He shut his eyes and pulled the sword from his father's chest, throwing it with all his might into the sea. He turned back to look for the stone, only to see it now just a pale peach, oddly shaped rock on the ground. Eyes wide with terror, he looked around him to see the death eaters and a bunch of aurors in the midst of heated battle, aided by the now unbound victims. He saw his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Lupin, come running towards him having just paralyzed another death eater._

"_Draco!"_

_Draco turned and spying a Firebolt, ran with wild abandon toward it and screamed, "UP!" And with seeker's reflexes he flew swiftly away into the stormy black night._

The next morning, Draco woke up angry.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

**(A/N: **Just for a taste the next chapter contains: more perplexing symptoms of strangeness, a drunken fool (who could he be?), badly done hexes, a Stones' tune, a tank top and something called Red Wonder)


	4. Red Wonder

**Sympathy for the Slytherin**

**Author's Notes:** Thank you for the reviews! I heartily appreciate the feedback! I've been looking forward to writing the last scene in this fic for days! Just in case you've noticed, yes, everybody and their brother has a special power now (mine is the _excessive _use of italics). What fun! And we haven't _gotten_ to the "bolting" yet! (Just you wait!)

**Chapter 3: Red Wonder**

Their voices wavered.

"What do you think? Should we wake him?"

Krowle Ferris was conflicted, "I don't know!" He whispered, "I think he'll get mad!"

His best friend, Nick Fubert was scared out of his wits, "He might get mad if we _don't!"_

"I say we don't," Krowle said firmly, "Let's just get out of here, we'll miss breakfast!"

"I say you get out of here too." Draco suddenly snapped, sitting up in his bed.

Krowle and Nick stood frozen in fear at the gigantic sixth year.

"Oh! Er, sorry, Draco!" Krowle yipped, "I mean, that is er-"

"GET OUT!"

"Yes, sir!" Nick shrieked.

Draco licked his lips, tasting sugar in the back of his throat as the two second years fled for their lives, "And don't tell anyone you've seen me!"

The door closed and Draco heard a faint echo of , "Yes, sir!"

Draco sat on his bed, determinedly decided that he wouldn't go to class today. He rubbed his eyes and pushed his hair, sweaty from the intensity of the dream out of his eyes. He waited and tried to stop his hands from shaking, clenching his fists and rubbing his scars. When the Gryffindor house seemed quiet he got up to change clothes. He took off the green sweater he'd worn to bed and left it on the floor. Catching himself in the mirror, Draco stared at his reflection. He was a well developed young man now, so it was a rather attractive reflection as reflections go, but he still looked a mess. His hair was damp and stringy and he couldn't ignore the haunted stare of desperation in his face. He held up his palm in the mirror, gazing at the angry scars, reddened because he'd aggravated them.

"'Morning, handsome!" The mirror greeted cheerfully, "Nasty scratch there, aye!"

In a fit of rage, Draco grabbed his bottle of pain killing potion off the dresser and threw it hard at the mirror which shattered on contact.

"That oughta shut you up." He muttered under his breath.

He put on on a black tank top and changed into equally black jeans and his old quidditch boots. He stuffed some galleons into his pocket , shoved his wand in the back of his jeans, and threw the bedroom door open so hard it knocked against the wall and sprung back, slamming closed.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ron poked at his eggs, grumbling to himself.

"Still hearing voices, Ron?" Harry asked, half joking.

"Yes!" Ron shouted, shocking them all, "I hear them _all the time_ except when I'm asleep! Hundreds of them! Voices talking about quidditch, girl voices talking about boys, boy voices talking about girls! I can recognize some of them! This morning I could hear Flitwick yabbering about his Hufflepuff third years while I was _in the shower_! I can't take it anymore!"

Ron sighed in frustration and stabbed at his bacon.

"Maybe someone hexed you when you weren't looking!" Ginny suggested.

"Or slipped you a prank potion!" Harry put in.

"Maybe you're schizophrenic." Hermione couldn't help throwing it out, it had been in her mind since Ron's first complaint.

Ron gaped, "I'm what! And no we _don't_ know if Malfoy is coming to breakfast, so quit asking!"

Hermione's mouth fell open, "Ron, I never brought it up." She paused, "But I was thinking it! Ron, you're telepathic! I mean, it's obvious! You're telepathic!"

"No, I'm not!" Ron shouted fearfully.

Harry was excited, "Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?"

"No, " Ron said, "I can't control it! It comes and goes and sometimes I hear one voice and sometimes three and sometimes a hundred. And sometimes it's really faint and sometimes it's louder. It's all...echoey." He was talking much too loudly as if he was going deaf, Hermione suspected he'd lost perspective of the volume of his voice as related to the ones in his head.

_Must be like wearing headphones with loud music all the time_, she thought. She didn't mention it, knowing Ron would have no idea what a walkman was.

"What did it sound like when you heard Hermione asking about Malfoy?" Harry sounded urgent.

"It wasn't as loud as how you're talking right now." Ron chewed his bacon and stared at the ceiling for a moment, "I can hear Creevey and Seamus, they sound distant. And a few others who's voices I don't know. Somebody _somewhere_ is rambling about spilling Bott's Beans all over the floor. Filch is in there, and I can hardly _hear_ over him!"

"It could _still_ be a trick of some kind." Ginny said helpfully.

"Merlin, I hope so!" Ron shoved his plate away and got up from the table, "I can't take it anymore! I'm gonna go see Pomfrey, I'll see you in class."

They wished their friend good luck and poked at their food, winded by the situation.

"So where is Draco anyway?" Harry asked, assuming Hermione would know.

Hermione shrugged, "Probably just sleeping in. Since I finally got him to _go_ to sleep. How's _your_ head?"

Harry smiled, "Feels fine right now. Kept waking me up in the night though."

Ginny looked stern, "If it comes back, I want you to go to Pomfrey."

Harry chuckled, "Yes, madam."

Hermione grinned at the exchange. She suspected their relationship had taken a little turn. The night before they'd come back from the quidditch game, practically draped over each other and reluctant to part for their dorms. Her suspicions were confirmed again as Harry reached for Ginny's hand on the table.

Hermione cleared her throat, "Are you sure it wasn't Ginny who cured your little itch?"

Ginny flushed, "Hermione!"

"Sorry, " Said Hermione, not sounding sorry at all, "Couldn't help myself."

"What about you?" Harry asked, "Any more premonitory dreaming?"

"I did dream about the dragon again." She answered,"But this time it was breathing fire."

Harry shuddered, "Let's hope Draco doesn't learn that neat trick."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It had started raining, but Draco didn't know that as he stalked down the halls, his hands shoved in his pockets. He heard footsteps coming from around the corner but didn't have time to hide before a typically grouchy Filch appeared.

_Damn!_

Filch scowled, "What are you doing out of class? And in those clothes! Boy, I don't care _what_ you did over the summer! Macgonagall will hear about _this_ right enough!"

Draco could taste that sugar again in his mouth, like dissolving cotton candy and easing back into his usual drawl said, "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather she not."

Filch tugged on his jacket collar, "Fine. But consider this a warning."

Filch walked on and Draco gawked, amazed at his luck. He continued down the hall as visions from his nightmares flashed through his mind. Lucius had said that following the dark lord was his destiny. Draco started to wonder if Dumbledore was wrong. Maybe men didn't choose their futures. Maybe their futures chose them.

_I already killed my father...how great a future can I have?_

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione sat down in Transfiguration next to Harry and looking anxiously around for Draco.

"I should've woken him up, " She said worriedly, "Although he does have a lot on his mind. For all I know, he's meeting with Dumbledore."

"You certainly worry a lot about him." Harry said, slightly bemused.

"Well, I am his-"

Harry unpacked his notes and quill, "Yes, I know. You're his tutor _and _the Gryffindor prefect."

"I'm also his friend." Hermione said quietly.

Harry stared down at the girl he'd saved from a troll in his first year, "Are you? Do you know what you're getting into, Hermione?"

"No, " She said smiling a little, "But that's never stopped us before, has it? Besides Harry, Lucius is dead. _Positively_ dead. They burned the body and everything. I think Draco's past is behind him."

Harry sighed, "I hope you're right. For your sake and mine."

As he ended his sentence, Ron came sweeping in and slipped into the empty seat next to Hermione.

"Any luck?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"No, " Ron growled, "She said she couldn't help me and that if it was a potion or a hex I should either try Snape or Gerkin or maybe go straight to Dumbledore if it continues."

Gerkin was their latest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, a mild mannered goat-like geezer as old as time and none of the three of them thought he could help Ron.

"I'm _not_ asking Snape," Ron insisted. "Do you know I'm getting it from entirely different _countries_ now? I've got angry German women and an American trying to figure out how to fix something called a carburetor."

"You've got to go to Dumbledore, Ron." Hermione said.

Ron leaned back in his chair, "I don't want to go to him. He'll probably just chuckle and tell me to go eat a chocolate frog or something."

Harry and Hermione laughed at the depiction of Dumbledore but Hermione had another suggestion, "There's only one place left for us then. The place with all the answers."

Harry smirked, "Looks like a trip to the library tonight."

Hermione rose an eyebrow, "You read my mind."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco stepped up from the cellar at Honeyduke's and onto it's main floor, his mind moving a hundred miles an hour.

_I should've died that day too, I'll bet _that_ was my destiny._

He spied the man at the counter who was mumbling, "I'll _never_ get all those Bott's Beans off the floor!" He noticed Draco then and brightened up, "Oh! Didn't see you come in! Can I help you?"

Draco just glared, "Exceedingly doubtful."

He walked out into the rainy streets of Hogsmeade just in time to hear the store clerk shout, "Say, aren't you Draco Malfoy!"

Draco stomped down the street, ignoring the pouring rain on his bare skin and not even bothering to perform a simple bubble spell. He stopped at The Three Broomsticks, had a second thought and kept going, instead entering Hog's Head. He walked into the darkened pub, mostly empty at this early hour though a few unsavory looking characters sat in corners, staring into mugs of suspicious liquids. Draco sat down at the counter and ran a hand through his hair. The barkeep, outfitted in dark grungy robes, recognized him instantly but decided against mentioning it.

"What'll it be then?" He asked gruffly, "Butterbeer?"

Draco crossed his arms on the counter and decided to take a shot, "Have you got something a little heavier?"

The bartender eyed him, "Of course. But not for you."

Draco tasted sugar and stared into the pub man's eyes, "I'll take a Red Wonder."

The bartender shrugged, "Whatever you say."

Draco smirked to himself and decided that whatever the connection was between the taste of sugar and the ease of convincing people to do his bidding, it was definitely working to his advantage. He thought to himself that it might be a left over side effect from the pepper-up potion which he'd mixed himself. The bartender made his drink and set a small glass of clear red liquid down in front of the soaking wet wizard dressed in black Muggle clothes. Draco had only heard about Red Wonder, but as far as he knew it was one of the strongest drinks existing in the wizard world, and that was saying a lot. He picked up the glass and watched as a tiny red dragon flew up out of the liquid, roared a breath of fire and then dissolved into sparkles that settled back into the glass. He'd always wanted to order one just to see the Dragon trick up close.

"Here's to patricide, " He mumbled.

Draco, who'd had nothing to eat all morning, threw the drink down his throat all at once and gripped the counter and rather comically fell to the floor. He jumped back up and gripped the counter, his knuckles whitening as fast as his face reddened. It felt as if a volcano had erupted in his throat, and the lava was pouring through his body and the steam was exploding in his head. He shut his eyes as the heat intensified and just as quickly the images of his nightmare started to fade.

The bartender cleaned a glass and regarded his customer, "Gave you a bit of a kick, did it?"

"Yeah, " Draco panted, "I'll take another."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione ambled down the corridor next to Ron following her third class, by now fully worried about Draco's whereabouts. She'd been sent to his room by Macgonagall to find him and instead found a broken mirror and potion bottle. She'd gone back to class to report her findings and Dumbledore was already there, saying a "little bird" had told him Draco'd gone missing again. Dumbledore had then looked to Ron expectantly, as if _he_ should knew where Draco was and then asked Hermione if she'd slept well. After that he left the class, seemingly unconcerned and certain that Draco would be back soon enough.

"I swear, " Ron had whispered to Hermione, "the man is omnipresent!"

She frowned to herself, wondering where he could be and hoping he wasn't getting into too much trouble.

"I just hope he comes back by dinner, Ron, or-" She stopped talking when she noticed he wasn't walking beside her anymore and looked back to see Ron standing stock still in the middle of the corridor, his face a mask of fury, "What is it now?"

"It's Harry!" Ron hissed, "I can hear his thoughts!"

"So what's he thinking about?"

"He's thinking about Ginny!" Ron shouted, his fists clenched.

Hermione squealed, "That's so cute!"

But Ron was livid, "Yeah well, YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT HE'S SAYING IN HERE!" He stomped his feet, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE, THAT'S MY _SISTER_ YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT!"

Hermione stifled a laugh, "He can't help it, Ron."

"AAAAUUUGH!"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was half sitting, half falling off his seat at the bar of Hog's Head. He'd convinced the barkeep to turn on a Wizard's Wireless that played both the WWN and muggle radio. He particularly liked one song that played and he'd charmed it to play it repeatedly. He pounded his fist on the table as a fourth Red Wonder was set in front of him.

"Now, I don't hardly knoooow heeeer..." Draco howled, "But I think I could loooove heeerr..." He picked up the drink and watch a dragon fly out only to have it turn into Hermione's pretty little head. The hallucination smiled mischievously, and blew him a kiss, "Crimson and clover..." He whispered, and tossed down the drink.

He babbled to the barkeep, who was stubbornly ignoring him, "Crimson's a Gryffindor color, you know? And clover is Slytherin...brilliant song. She's brilliant too, isn't she? Crimson and clover...over and over...enough!" He stood up suddenly and took the charm off the Wireless, a new song started playing like nothing he'd ever heard before.

_I see a red door and I wanted it painted black,_

_No colors anymore, I want them to turn black, _

The voice was rough and dangerous and sounded exactly the way he felt. The color red seemed to be following him today, he thought nonsensically. Soon Draco was singing along to this one too, having ordered another Red Wonder, "I look inside myself and see my heart is black..." Draco snickered, "Huh. Solve that one, Granger."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione and Ron sat together in the common room going over potion formulas as Ron smacked the side of his head in annoyance. They were waiting for Harry to return for their trip to the library.

"Concentrate on Draco for a while, " Hermione suggested, "Maybe you can figure out where he is."

"Oh, _that_ sounds like a lot of fun. Here, let me sit still and think about Malfoy as hard as I can."

"Just try it!" She insisted.

Ron put down his quill and closed his eyes, pretending to know what he was doing. He tried to ignore all the voices in his mind and pictured Draco's face. He sat still like that for a minute and then sighed in frustration. Changing tactics, he instead tried to imagine Draco's voice. He replayed Draco's Greatest Hits of the Past including "Language, Weasley" and particularly "What the-" which was a favorite as Draco had spouted it in confusion when an invisible Harry pelted him with mud. He made those voice memories like a string in his mind and stuck it along side the other several strings of voices and attempted to "tune into Malfoy" as if he was working a Wireless with many channels. The voices mixed up as he tried to pick one out.

_If Seamus doesn't ask me out, I'll die- language, Weasley- ridiculous students with their little- the embassy, sir! I'm seeking the French emb- what the- it's practically a done deal, man just lemme get- language, Weasley- donde esta la zapateria- c'mon my babies, eat your supper now- crimson and clover - fahget about it, I ain't no- but she doesn't know me does she- la la la insha allah-- beautiful eyes when she's- never again will I be so- Hermione and her beautiful eyes- no, i said two teaspoons of- forget it, Malfoy, you're dreaming-_

"I've got him!" Ron said jubilantly, his eyes remaining closed.

Hermione could hardly believe it, "You have! Where is he? What's he thinking?"

Ron made a face, "Ugh! He's thinking about you."

"He is!" Hermione blushed just a little, "What about me?"

Ron sighed heavily, "It's all bits and pieces. Something about beautiful eyes... I don't know, he's babbling like an idiot. Dark destiny...could never like me anyway...oh _brother. _Did you two ever make salad on a beach?" He asked confusedly.

Hermione was glad his eyes were closed so he couldn't see her deep blush , "Long story. " She muttered. "What else?"

Ron shrugged, "He has a red door and he wants it painted black. Does that make any sense to you?"

Hermione frowned, "Only if you're a Stone's fan. Can you tell where he is?"

He stroked his chin, " He seems to be thinking about a dark tunnel and a statue... he's probably coming back from Hogsmeade... Now he's thinking about his-" Ron sat up as his eyes shot wide open.

"What is it!" Hermione demanded.

Ron seemed shocked beyond all speech but he just shook his head, "I...noth... nothing. I lost him." In truth, Ron had lost him _after _hearing Malfoy thinking something that shocked him more then anything he'd heard in the last six years. But he didn't consider it right to spill it to Hermione himself, especially when Draco had been thinking soft and sappy things about her and Ron had invaded his mind. He would, however, tell Harry when he got the chance. A serious conference between the two of them was needed immediately.

"Ron, c'mon. What's wrong?" She asked.

"It's nothing, " But he wouldn't look her in the eye, "It's just uh...startling to lose the voice all of a sudden."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco stumbled out into the corridor from behind the statue and bumbled his way down the halls, in his drunken stupor heading toward the Slytherin House for the fifth time that week, a half empty bottle of fire whiskey clutched in one hand.

"And time...goes by so sloooowly!" Draco sang at an unreasonable volume, forgetting most of the words and slurring the verses in a desperate croon, "And time can do...mo such..." Draco laughed at the slip, "Oh yeah... I need your loooove..."

He attempted to walk down the hall one foot in front of the other, immediately tripping, "Lonely...something something...to the sea, to the sea...I'll be coming home, Hermioneeeeeee..."

"Will you look at what we've got here."

It was Blaise. Draco squinted, "Zabini, old chum?"

Draco stood up straight, or as straight as he could manage and sidled up to Blaise who was surrounded by none other then Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson.

He drew his wand dramatically, "Have at thee!" And laughed at his own joke.

Zabini guffawed, "Draco Malfoy, what a state you're in. You're precious Gryffindors will be none too pleased."

Draco ignored him and took a swig of fire whiskey. He ambled up to Pansy who was watching him with detached amusement. He put his palm against the wall near her and leaned against it in what he thought to be a cool pose, but in his uncoordinated position looked rather ridiculous.

"Pansy, my love. You're looking..." He shrugged, "Very much like yourshelf."

Pansy rolled her eyes and walked over to Blaise, "What a joke you are." She sighed, "And _you,_ the new Harry Potter."

"Yeah, " Blaise agreed, "Got exactly what you wanted, didn't you? Frontpage headlines. Prerequisite aura of mystery. Don't seem to fit the part quite as well as he does though, do you?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "Questions! Schmestions! I want to dance!" He leaned on Pansy, "C'mon Smansy, one little waltz?"

Zabini pushed him away as Crabbe and Goyle looked dumbly on, "Stay away from her, Malfoy!" He scowled, "You know, I heard a rumor that it wasn't your mother that asked you change houses, I heard _you_ wanted to get out Slytherin!"

Draco threw his arm around Zabini's neck, "Ah, Zucchini. If you knew what _I_ shoe, you wouldn't be worried about all that bloody nud."

Zabini shoved him away, "You think _you're_ too good for Slytherin? That you're some kind of hero?"

Goyle attempted to join in the indignance, "Yeah! Do you!"

Draco snorted, "Oh shuff it, Goyle. Don't go trying to have an obliminal thought... orblinial... oliginal. You know what I mean."

Zabini shoved him again, "Look at him! The great Draco Malfoy! Majestic pureblood! Do you know you were supposed to be Slytherin prefect this year? PATHETIC! And you think you can just walk out on Slytherin and be what? One of Harry Potter's new minions? They _know_ what you _are_! You can't just turn from all of it!"

Draco shuddered, hearing the echo of his father's words.

_It is your destiny! You cannot turn from it!_

He drew his wand and pushed Blaise against the corridor wall, "Yeah, well take this, Zabini! _Jillio-_"

But Blaise merely slapped the wand out of his hand as Crabbe and Goyle, who for the past day had received bouts of look-at-that-wanna-be-Draco-thinking-he's-too-good-for-Slytherin rhetoric, yanked him from behind. Draco felt his head begin to pound and the scars on his hand begin to tingle as he looked up at Blaise who was pointing his wand in Draco's face, Crabbe and Goyle clutching his arms. It was all too familiar.

"Nice try, Draco, " Blaise said happily, "_Foliciulus Verden!_"

While Blaise was busy casting hexes on him, Draco knelt not seeing Blaise at all but instead his father as his heart throbbed and his hands shook.

"Let me go." Draco said through gritted teeth. Somewhere in his drunken mind he wished for that sugary taste again, wondering if that would make Blaise stop.

"Oh, I think not!" Blaise said happily, stroking his chin, "And I can't seem to give you green bumps but I _can_ make you vomit a good gallon of nasty green stuff! It should match your hair quite nicely!"

Draco tried to shake off Crabbe and Goyle, "Let me go!"

"_Vomi Slimio_!I think that's right."

Draco shut his eyes and screamed as loud as he could, "LET ME GO!"

He summoned his strength and threw Crabbe and Goyle aside, scrambling for his wand.

Blaise cackled, "Aw, let him go then, gents. He's making more of a fool of himself on his own anyhow."

Draco stomped down the hall away from Slytherin, Blaise calling after him, "Say hello to your boyfriend for me!"

Fortunately or unfortunately, Draco was much too drunk to let the exchange bother him for long. He rushed at a trot down the corridors, receiving odd looks and sometimes expressions of horror from younger students.

"Oooooh, my loooove..." Draco stopped, his stomach turning, "Ugh..."

He ran to the nearest window and pushed it open, spewing a frightening quantity of what appeared to be green slime into the autumnal foliage below. Draco got up just as quickly, wiped his mouth and washed away the sour taste with a chug of whiskey. He frowned down at his hand, clenched his fist and shook it, "Feels money...er, bunny. Funny. 'Ats right. Must memember my pain fotion. Ooooooh, myyyy looooove... my dahling..."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione didn't believe Ron's excuse for a second but decided to let it slide until later. They were interrupted by the Pink Lady opening and a disheveled Harry striding in, rubbing at his scar.

Hermione looked up hopefully and was quickly disappointed, "Oh, it's you."

Harry gave her a look, "Yeah, just me."

She shrugged,"I was hoping Draco would return. Itchy again?"

"It just started up!" Harry complained, "It's been fine all day."

Ron cleared his throat, "Uh, Harry I have to talk to you about something later..."

Harry blushed, "I told you I was sorry! I didn't know you were in my head! It's hardly my fault that-"

"No, no not about that." Ron said as Hermione eyed him with suspicion, "It's about uh... a new idea for quidditch. Er, top secret."

Hermione snorted, "Right. Are we going to the library then?"

They had just exited the Pink Lady when Harry put up a hand, "Wait. Do you hear that?"

It was an echoing yowl and it was getting closer.

Hermione frowned, "Is that...singing? What is that?"

Their question was answered when from around the corner in front of them came Draco at a run who skidded to a halt, stumbled and fell against the opposite wall. The three friends watched, openmouthed, as he picked himself up, laughing to himself. This Draco had bright green soaking wet hair falling over his eyes, and more then that, two ram like horns springing from his head. He was wearing black jeans and a tank top and he was drenched from the rain. Hermione also noticed that he was holding a mostly empty bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey. Draco stumbled towards them and kept singing, loudly.

"Girl, you really got me now! You shot me so I can't sleep at night!"

He backed up against a wall and shook his head wildly, singing into the bottle.

Hermione shook her head, "Oh, dear."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle, "He's drunk out of his mind."

"You really got me! You really got me!"

"Looks like he ran into some trouble as well." She sighed and pointed her wand and the dancing, singing Draco, "_Finite incantatum._" The hair turned back to blonde and the horns disappeared.

Draco seemed to notice the three of them for the first time, "Look here! Potter and his...riff raff." He was doing an impression of himself, "And there's poor Weasley, " He drawled, "Pooooor Weasley."

Harry rose an eyebrow, "Looks like that Malfoy drawl is back."

Ron crossed his arms, "What did you drink, Malfoy? Just the whiskey?"

Draco laughed, "Red Wonder! Switch I must say is s'wooooonderful!"

Ron groaned, "Oh nooo..."

"What's Red Wonder?" Hermione asked.

Draco whipped out his wand and swirled it around, "_Avis_!"

A small flock of colorful birds appeared.

"My father had one once, " Ron said, "He came home with a three eyed dwarf, convinced it was Percy."

Harry shrugged, "Well, anyone could make that mistake."

"Malfoy!" Ron barked, "How many did you have?"

Draco rolled his eyes to the top of his head, "Lessee..." He looked at his hands and tried to calculate dumbly with his fingers, "What's three plus four?"

"Oi, " Ron couldn't help but smirk, "Where's Creevey's camera when you need it?"

Draco pointed at the window, "_Aviswasi_!"

The birds flew right at the window, bonked their beaks against it and fell to the floor. Draco looked depressed, "Bloody... I sought sey'd go outside." He shook his right hand and scratched his scars.

Draco scampered over to Hermione, nabbed her wand, and pretended to play the drums, "Ya know this one, Granger? I can't _get _no... satis_fact_ ion!" The wands threw sparks and shattered a vase standing on a hallway endtable.

"Draco, cut it out!" Hermione demanded, "Give me back my wand!"

Hermione reached for her wand and Draco reluctantly let go of it, grabbing Hermione instead.

"C'mon, Ganger! Dance wis smee!"

He took her hands and whirled her around the corridor as a distraught Ron and Harry tried to seperate them, "Cut it out, Malfoy!" Ron shouted.

Draco leered down at Hermione, "Give us a kiss, aye Granger?"

"Malfoy!" Harry hollered in anger.

She shook her head, "Draco, for Merlin's sake..."

He laughed, "C'mon, you sexy little mudblood..."

She shoved him away, an expression of genuine hurt in her eyes, "Draco!"

Harry shoved Draco against the wall, "Don't you call her that, you hear me, Malfoy!"

Draco pointed his wand at Hermione, "_Accio _bloodmud!" When it didn't work, he laughed and scratched his head.

Ron looked to Hermione, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Yes. He doesn't know what he's saying."

Draco turned, suddenly angry, "Oh, I don't show what I'm snaying, do I? Sure, you like me when I'm pathetic and biserable. Wrapped up in my own..." He threw up his hands, "Whatever!" He turned and threw the bottle of whiskey against the wall, where it broke all over the floor, "Can't take the real Malfoy, can ya? Noble Gryffinors and their noble..." Draco scratched at his hand, "You wouldn't want to know what I know..."

Ron and Harry walked carefully toward Draco, "C'mon, Malfoy-" Ron said slowly, his mind on the thoughts he'd seen in Draco's head.

"NO!" Draco spun wildly, and when Harry tried to grab him, Draco threw punches and the two fell to floor, Harry trying to gain control and Draco fighting him off.

Ron yelled to Hermione, "Stupefy him! I don't have my wand!"

Hermione's brow furrowed as she tried to aim her wand at Draco, "_Stupefy!"_

Instead, Harry went suddenly limp and Draco leapt to his feet.

"Damn!" She aimed her wand up at Draco who shook his head.

"No need, Granger." And with that he abruptly passed out.

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!"

Ron and Hermione's heads snapped up to see Macgonagall standing at the end of the hall like a goddess of holy fury.

"I can hear her mind right now, " Ron whispered, "And she's not too happy."

**A/N:** Next chapter includes: A lousy hangover, insomnia, much drawling, a pensieve, a kiss and something called "free fall brooming."


	5. Free Fall

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin  
  
Author's Notes:** I would like to say that I am darn proud of myself for giving Ron a good part in this thing. Ron always seems to get the part of Hot Blooded Jealous Third Wheel. Well, no more! Go Ron, go! Oh yeah, and I'm not British or anything, just know a teeny bit of slang. means drunk, if you didn't know (Like in Chumbawumba's Tub Thumper, recollect? Pissin' the night away wasn't about peeing for hours.)**  
  
Chapter 4: Free Fall  
  
  
**Hermione lay on her bed, sniffling quietly. She wiped away another tear and gazed out the window at the autumn night. As Ron had succinctly put it, no, Macgonagall had not been at all happy. Interestingly though, her main complaint was not Draco's behavior although she said he would be punished. She was mostly upset that Hermione and the others had not found a professor immediately when he'd returned. Her anger had increased tenfold, when Hermione admitted that he'd shown up having been hexed by some unknown party. At that point, Macgonagall had taken away Hermione's prefect badge for a week, suspended Ron and Harry from quidditch and assigned them to detention with Hagrid in two days. Hermione was mortified. Her only comfort was that at least the detention was with Hagrid. Meanwhile, a bleary eyed and incoherent Draco was revived and put to bed after Macgonagall assigned Ron and Harry to getting him up for breakfast in the morning.  
  
_Stupid, stupid, stupid..._ she thought.  
  
Yet, if she lived it all over again, she realized, she probably would've done the same thing. She'd been thinking more about Draco getting in trouble then about his safety. This worried Hermione. What did Macagongall know that she didn't about Draco's position? Was she afraid of him being hurt by someone else or only by his own self-destructiveness? Either option seemed as likely after the activities of last night.   
  
She reviewed the facts once again. Draco had gone through _something_ which had scarred his hand and which he refused to talk about. Dumbledore knew what he'd gone through and in some subtle way, appeared to be waiting for Hermione, Ron and Harry to figure it out. She didn't put anything past Dumbledore. She figured he already knew about Ron's sudden telepathy, her dreams and Harry's itching. She'd decided by now that if all of this wasn't related, it was somehow _going_ to be. Another fact that Hermione couldn't ignore was that whatever Draco wasn't talking about, he also didn't seem to have anyone to not talk about it with. Then and there, Hermione decided she had no recourse but to be someone he could count on.   
  
She was, after all, his tutor.   
  
She discounted everything he'd said when he was drunk. He was confused, she knew. He wasn't really like that anymore, if he'd ever been. It would be hard. He put up a tough defense. But Hermione was tough too. When she put her mind to something, she did not easily let go. And if nothing else, she would just nag him to death.   
  
Hermione had a mission. And the mission was a Malfoy.  
  
Hermione drifted off to sleep, wondering exactly _how_ drunk Draco had been, when he'd thought of her beautiful eyes.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Back in their dorm room, once he'd waited for everyone to fall asleep, Ron tiptoed over to Harry's bed and shook him gently. Harry had been quickly revived once Macgonagall appeared so that he would be awake for the dressing down the three of them received. But Ron hadn't gotten a chance to talk to him before now.  
  
He hissed. I have to talk to you!  
  
Harry woke with a start and glared at his friend. Ron! Geez, quidditch can wait! I just got to where I could ignore the itching-  
  
It's not about quidditch, genius. Ron whispered. Before you got back, I read Draco's mind-  
  
Now that's a frightening prospect. Suddenly he looked anxious. Oh, Merlin! What is it? Is it Voldemort? Is he involved? What?!  
  
Ron hushed his friend and sat on the bed. That's just it...it's...  
  
It was such an alarming bit of news that Ron hardly knew how to tell it.  
  
Spill it, Ron! If it's important.  
  
It _is_!_  
  
_Then what is it? Just tell-  
  
Malfoy killed his father.  
  
Ron watched the shock register on Harry's face. He looked completely blank as he let the astounding information sink in.  
  
Are you _sure_? He asked quietly, finding it hard to keep his voice quiet.  
  
It was the loudest thought in his mind!  
  
Harry frowned. What do you mean?  
  
Ron sighed. He'd learned a lot in the scant few days of having this powerful new gift.  
  
Well, it's like...I can tune into bits and pieces of thoughts. Some bits are louder then others and I think it depends on how important they are or how they feel about it. If I hear someone think that they need to brush their teeth, for example, it comes out softly. But if they're thinking something like I've killed my father' it's much louder. Draco's voice was bloody thundering when he thought that.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This is the weirdest bloody year...  
  
I don't know exactly how it happened. I couldn't get any details. But it...well, I _guess _it makes sense. We know Lucius died on Grier's Mountain that night and we know Draco was there. What other explanation is there except that...  
  
Harry sighed. He was trying to stop it. And he killed his father. I've got to find out what happened.  
  
Ron shook his head. You're not likely get anything out of him. He won't talk to anyone, least of all us.  
  
Does Hermione know?  
  
Ron winced. No. It didn't seem right to tell her. Besides, Malfoy was having some...unexpected thoughts about her and I didn't think he'd want her to know yet.  
  
Harry put up his hands in an almost defensive posture and squinted, partly from tiredness.   
  
Let me get this straight. Draco Malfoy went through some sort of...reforming and killed his own father at a death eater's ritual. And now he, Draco Malfoy, has a _crush_ on _Hermione_? And _you_, Ronald Weasley, don't want to tell Hermione his secret out of consideration for _Malfoy_?  
  
The redhead rubbed his eyes and smiled sleepily.   
  
No one said adolescence was simple, Harry.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
The dream she had that night cheered Hermione considerably. She dreamt of Harry and Draco. They were flying, that is, flying without brooms. They were barreling through the air at a great height, an expression of such joy on their faces such as Hermione had never seen, even after particularly triumphant quidditch matches. They were laughing and grinning, arms splayed out, high in the sky over Hogwarts until at last they came to a landing on the grass and lay down to rest next to Ron, Ginny and Hermione near a tree. The five of them were joking and talking, Draco's head resting on Hermione's stomach and Ginny sitting between Harry's legs. Next to them sat Ron who, curiously, had a small and beautiful black bird with white tail feathers perched on his shoulder. It was a dream that gave Hermione a satisfying sense of completeness. As if that it were the way things were supposed to be.  
  
************************************************************  
  
When he woke up the next morning, Draco's only comfort was the perfect description he had in mind for how he felt.  
  
_Like one hundred screeching mandrakes...ALL SCREECHING IN MY HEAD.  
  
_Gritting his teeth, Draco tentatively opened one eye to the dimness of his dorm room only to shut it again immediately. He could hear the second years making their way out to breakfast and it sounded to him like a herd of wild manticores on the loose.  
  
_Forget it. I'll skip again._  
  
Why, he wondered, didn't these ingenious drink concocting wizards make their alcoholic beverages hangover proof? He supposed it was a purposeful measure to prevent alcoholism among wizards or some such nonsense. He buried his head under his pillow and moaned quietly. Seconds later he was interrupted by the last two people on earth he wished to see.  
  
It was Harry who said his name first while attempting to relieve the incessant itching in his scar.  
  
Draco didn't move.  
  
Malfoy, c'mon-  
  
Draco unburied himself but kept his eyes shut. If you two bottom feeding gits don't get out of my face as of five minutes ago-  
  
If you don't show up to breakfast, Macgonagall's owling your mother, Ron interrupted.  
  
Stuff my mother.   
  
Ron mouthed something to Harry and then sighed heavily. Have it your own way then. Let's go, Harry.  
  
They started to walk away. Hate to worry Hermione like this, especially considering how scared she was yesterday. Ron said loudly.  
  
Draco, his eyes still shut, abruptly stopped scratching his palm.  
  
Yeah, Harry agreed, I'd never _seen_ her in such a state. She was quite upset when she didn't know where you were, Malfoy.  
  
Well, she_ is_ his tutor. Ron said casually.  
  
Draco opened his eyes and resisted the overwhelming urge to close them again. And just what would I care what that bitchy mudblood thinks of me?  
  
Harry started and Ron's jaw twitched but he shook his head at his friend. Oh, nothing at all, I expect. C'mon, Harry.  
  
The two left but not before Harry noticed on Draco's desk what looked like a brand new pensieve, next to which lay an envelope with Draco's name on it.   
  
Curious, Harry thought. Curiouser and curiouser.  
  
*************************************************  
  
Ron and Harry exited Draco's room and made their way to breakfast.  
  
Harry couldn't help but grin at their little manipulation. But how do you know it worked?  
  
Ron shot him a lopsided smile. I heard him thinking it over. I could hear him the whole time. Last night I thought perhaps it was just the Red Wonder but she's very much in his mind. Although mostly he was trying to remember what happened to him last night. He'll be at breakfast.  
  
Did he mean it at all when he called her a...you know? Harry asked, concerned.  
  
Ron shook his head, It's all an act. I don't think he even believes that rot anymore. Besides, Hermione told me he's become fond of the muggle world.  
  
Harry chuckled. Draco Malfoy a Hermione-crushing, muggle-loving runaway.  
  
Don't worry, Ron said, when this is all over, he'll probably be the same slimy git he always was.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
When Harry and Ron had left, Draco slowly rolled out bed, feeling as if lead weights were in his socks. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room for the first time that morning to see that his mirror and pain potion had been repaired. Though at the moment, his hand wasn't sore but quite itchy. He couldn't help but wonder if Hermione really had been worried about him. He couldn't remember much about the previous night but he did recall having some unusual thoughts about his new tutor. Not that this was _exactly _new. It had been coming on for a couple of days. He tried to distance himself from the notion. He was, at least physically, a normal teenage boy. And any normal teenage boy would not be able to but have tender thoughts working in such close vicinity to such a beautiful girl who also happened to be highly intelligent as well as kind. It was something he would never have considered before this year. Not ever. But then again, he'd never bothered to spend more than five minutes of time alone with Hermione before. Not willingly anyway.  
  
_It doesn't mean anything. It's not my fault she has such pretty eyes or soft pink lips or...Damn.  
_  
Draco tried to shake himself out of such thoughts and was about to drag himself to the showers when he saw the pensieve sitting innocently on his desk. Next to the magical basin sat an envelope with his name on it. He picked up the envelop to see the seal of Hogwarts on it and he opened it hesitantly.  
  
_Draco,  
Pensieves are quite useful for sorting out difficult memories. Perhaps this will assist you in sorting out yours.  
-Albus Dumbledore_  
  
Draco was flummoxed.  
  
_So basically, _he thought, _I break about forty different school rules...and the headmaster gives me a present?  
  
_Next to the pensieve was a fresh bottle of pepper-up potion, which Draco knew to be an aide in getting through particularly nasty hangovers. Draco unstuck the cork and took a large dose, chasing it with a large swallow of pain potion.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Harry and Ron found Hermione in surprisingly bright spirits at the breakfast table.   
She was laughing with Ginny about something and nibbling on bacon.  
  
You're certainly in a good mood, Harry said, taking his seat.   
  
She nodded. I know. I was just telling Ginny about it. I can't believe Draco didn't get expelled but I suppose they're making some sort of exception for him.  
  
Tell them about your dream, Hermione! Ginny urged.  
  
Hermione felt her cheeks redden at the memory but decided she'd skip that portion of the dream.   
  
What was it this time? Ron asked.  
  
Hermione grinned. I dreamt Harry and Draco were flying without brooms. Although I suppose hurling through the sky is a better way to put it. They flew over the quidditch field. And you and Ginny were there. We were watching. And Ron, you had a black bird on your shoulder.  
  
Harry cocked his head. A black bird? Wonder what that means.  
  
Hermione shrugged and couldn't help but imagine over again the part of the dream she'd left out. The part where she sat, leaning against a tree with Draco lying next to her, his head in her lap. The dream so vivid that she could almost now feel her fingers interlaced through his. The memory of the way he'd smiled at her a smile she'd never seen on his face before. And they way it felt so normal and not strange at all.  
  
Hermione looked up to see Ron a with mischievous expression on his face.   
  
_Good Lord, I've got to watch my brain around him!  
  
_She glanced over at Harry and Ginny to see them engulfed in each other.  
  
_Ron, if you can hear this, STOP EAVESDROPPING!_  
  
Ron leaned over and smirked. Just what is it about that smile you find so charming?_  
  
_Hermione went fuscia.   
  
Ron laughed. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone. But I think you're ridiculous.  
  
I can't help what I dream, ya know. Hermione said haughtily.  
  
Well, _I _ can't help but hear your thoughts. Ron shot back.  
  
Somehow I doubt that.  
  
Ron nodded at the door to the great hall. Here comes your fire breathing dragon now.  
  
Hermione looked to see Draco moseying into breakfast with his old characteristic swagger. He didn't look in their direction and sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table by himself. Hermione frowned and looked at Ron expectantly.  
  
Ron looked shifty. I don't know... I think he's ... grouchy.  
  
Hermione glared at Ron, knowing very well he was keeping information from her. Ron had suddenly started being reasonable about Malfoy and the only logical conclusion was that he knew something she didn't.  
  
Hermione got up from her seat, walked purposefully over to Draco and sat across from him.  
  
What do you want, mudblood? Draco snapped.  
  
Hermione blinked and ate a bite of eggs off the plate that had appeared in front of her. I want to eat breakfast. If it's okay with you, that is.  
  
He kept his eyes on his plate and poked at his toast. Why don't you eat with Potter and the Weasettes over there?   
  
Hermione noticed that he hadn't actually said it _wasn't_ okay for her to eat with him. She also noticed that his insults were rather weak and surmised that his heart wasn't really in it.  
  
Because _I_ want to eat over _here_. She said firmly. And it's a free table and I can eat where I please.   
  
Draco leaned closer and stared straight into Hermione's eyes. Look, I know you think because you're a prefect you have to go reforming criminals or saving homeless orphans or whatever you like to call it. But get over it. I don't need some dogfaced mudblood under the mistaken impression that she's doing me some kind of favor. I don't _need_ you. I don't _want_ you. You make me _ill_. Draco tasted sugar in his mouth, assured that she would do what he told her. So leave me alone and go crawl back under whatever rock you came from, little girl.  
  
Hermione swallowed some pumpkin juice and met his glare with an air of bottomless determination. Shut up and eat your eggs, ferret face. I'm not going anywhere.  
  
********************************************************  
  
At lunch, Harry could be seen walking hand in hand with Ginny down a path to Sprout's greenhouses. Potions and herbology were Ginny's new passions. She was highly adept at configuring new uses for commonly used as well as little known plants and would soon be advancing to Double Potions with the sixth years as well as Advanced Herbology. Sprout was ecstatic over Ginny's interest and even Snape had to begrudgingly admit that the Gryffindor was greatly talented for her age.  
  
I can't believe Malfoy had goat's horns on his head! And you didn't _ call_ me? Ginny yipped in mock aggravation.  
  
Green hair too, Harry couldn't help but laugh. We were a bit preoccupied with trying to stop him from cursing us into oblivion. A sober Malfoy with a wand is bad enough...  
  
Ginny pushed open the door to the greenhouse and breathed in the welcoming scent of ripening golt corns.  
  
And you think he has something to do with your itch? She asked, leading him to several trays of dittany.  
  
Harry shrugged, I started to notice that it itches most when I'm around him. And yesterday when he was in Hogsmeade, I was fine.  
  
Ginny picked several dittany buds out of the trays and dropped them on a mortaring stone.  
  
Strange. You don't think it means he's dangerous, do you?  
  
No. It doesn't feel dangerous. More like... I have an itch to _do_ something and I don't know what. It' s like if you woke up one morning without your nose and never remembered having a nose...But you still felt like something was missing and you still had the urge to smell.  
  
Ginny grinned. Smell this. She handed him several small leaves of something green.  
  
Harry inhaled and his eyes lit up. Peppermint. I didn't know Sprout grew muggle plants in here.  
  
Ginny blushed, Actually, it was something I thought of this summer. I think they might come in useful. I wrote to her asking if I could bring some buds and things over to experiment with and she loved the idea. The peppermint is just for fragrance right now. Since I'm using bubotubors for this paste.  
  
Ginny turned to face the lab table and Harry rested his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her waste, Tell me what you're doing. He said softly.  
  
Ginny couldn't help but feel her heart swell at his interest in _her_ interests and gladly explained, Well, as you know, dittany is a powerful paralyzing agent in potions. But if I mash up just a tiny little bit... Ginny did so with her pestle, picked up the bubotubor laying nearby and squeezed some disgusting yellow puss into the mashed up buds. And add some bubotubor drops to take down the swelling and irritation from your scratching it nearly raw... She added the peppermint and ground the ingredients together to a fine paste. And throw in some mint to take away the terrible petrol smell... She scooped a bit of the stuff with her finger, turned carefully to face Harry and begin to rub it into his forehead. It should be a decent numbing solution that will relieve the itching and has a pleasing scent. Peppermint also enhances the effect. Muggles use it that way all the time. She finished rubbing the ointment into his skin and wiped her hands on a rag nearby.  
  
Harry just gazed at her happily. You're beautiful when you're brilliant.  
  
Ginny beamed and her cheeks turned pink which set off her hair as well as Harry, Which must mean you're perpetually beautiful. He finished.  
  
Ginny giggled. My fingers are numb now.  
  
He smiled slyly and took her hands in his. Let's hope you're lips are not.  
  
Harry leaned in and kissed her gently, tasting a hint of raspberry lip gloss. Her lips seemed to tremble as much as the first time he'd kissed her and the thought he caused it had his blood rushing. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss, instantly forgetting about scars and dark lords and former Slytherins.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Hermione sat in Potions, drumming her fingers absentmindedly on the table. To her right sat Harry, who seemed to have found a cure for his itching and to her left, Draco who looked mutely enraged. Snape was barking out ingredients and their various uses as they took notes. She looked over to see Draco with his arms crossed, refusing to right down the instructions for their next assignment. What Hermione recognized was an attempted return to the old Draco with notable absence of his characteristic smirking arrogance. This Draco wasn't just mean, he was very angry. He'd been much the same all day. Though in their other classes he'd managed to find seats far from her, this time she'd cornered him.   
  
She whispered.   
  
Sod off.  
  
  
  
Sod. Off.  
  
Hermione grit her teeth and scribbled a note on a torn piece of parchment which she clandestinely slipped to Harry who slipped it to Ron. Ron didn't bother to read the note, already knowing what it said.  
  
_Ron, what's he thinking??  
  
_Instead he scribbled something on the back and slipped it back to Hermione. Hermione hunched over and unfolded the note.  
  
_He's pissed. (But not that kind of pissed.) -RW  
  
_Hermione rolled her eyes at the double meaning and shot a glare at Ron, thinking loudly.  
  
_Well _I_ could've figured that out!  
  
_Ron thought for a moment, scribbled another note and slipped it to Hermione.  
  
_It's not personal. -RW  
  
_Truthfully, he could hear much more then that but he wasn't about to reveal it to Hermione in the middle of Potions. All morning he'd heard nothing _but _ the thoughts of Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco, who was by far the loudest. It seemed whatever Hermione had inspired in the mode of tuning in had very much tuned him in to the minds of those he was closest to and he couldn't seem to tune out. He knew that Hermione in between focusing on the subject matter of each class, was completely preoccupied with Draco. Harry thought about nothing but Ginny and the possibility of Voldemort's return and Ron now also knew his theory about the connection between Draco and his scar's itch though Harry had never mentioned it to him aloud. And Ginny thought constantly about plants and Harry, which made Ron queasy. Meanwhile, Draco's mind seemed to keep itself hypnotized by an unending incoherent stream of consciousness which included bits and pieces of horrifying memories, brooding notions of death and destiny and muggle song lyrics. Draco was also attempting to squelch thoughts about Hermione which put Ron in a bitter sweetly wistful mood as he recalled the crush he used to have on her. And Ron had no idea what his ramblings about sugar in his mouth were all about. But as Draco was the most emotionally intense of the group, his thoughts were the most distracting. Ron shut his eyes and all he heard was Draco...  
  
_No colors anywhere, I want them to turn black...should've stayed...should've stayed away. Back in Cairo... no, or I shouldn't have bothered killing him. Crimson and clover...over and over... no I don't hardly know her... but the dark Lord's gonna get that stone back anyway it's all destiny and mine is sealed so what does she want with me? Staring at me all expectant? Over and over...Dammit, would she stop staring at me with those eyes. He'll come again. He'll come again, I might as well have let him live...I could do it. I could do it right now, hex them all. Crucio those smug idiots. Crucio Snape for that matter...  
  
_Mr. Weasley! I'll thank you to stay awake in my class. Ron's eyes shot open to see a glaring Snape in front of him. That is, if it's not too much trouble? Twenty points from Gryffindor.  
  
Draco snickered.  
  
_Poooor Weasley..._  
  
Ron grit his teeth.  
  
You will all complete a table of the fourteen potent minerals by Friday, including a page for each mineral on its uses, effects and etceteras. Not that I expect any of you to remember what you have written by the end of term.  
  
Draco was cackling.  
  
Snape looked up sharply, seeming not to know how to play it. Yes, Mr.Malfoy? Do we have a problem?  
  
Draco was tipped on the back two legs of his chair, his arms crossed. He rolled his eyes and said tiredly. I dunno, Severus, do we?  
  
Hermione gaped, looking back and forth between Draco, who looked as if he didn't give a damn about a damn and Snape, who normally would have been livid and now looked mostly irritated.  
  
Snape gave Draco his best glower. Mr.Malfoy, I realize you have had some... difficulty so far this term. However, you will not disrupt this class. You will see Macgonagall after this session. And I expect a flawless paper out of you on Friday.  
  
Hermione could hardly believe it. Snape hadn't even taken points from Gryffindor.  
  
Draco could taste the sweetness now and felt the dangerous combination of secreted rage and a total lack of concern for future consequences. The sweetness was stronger then ever before, like a sugar cube just melted on his tongue. So Draco glared Snape in the eye and leaned forward in his chair.  
  
I'd rather not actually. He said it as obstinately as he'd ever said anything in his life and the class's jaws dropped collectively to the floor. Snape did a sort of double take and scowled.  
  
Hermione elbowed Draco. Draco, cut it out! She hissed.  
  
Snape was examining Draco as if solving a puzzle, You will not challenge me on this, Mr.Malfoy.  
  
Draco only stared. I think I will. You see, I don't _want_ to do the paper or see Macgonagall, and you won't have me do so.  
  
Hermione was actually frightened. Draco, shut up! She whispered urgently.  
  
Snape seemed to falter for a moment.   
  
The class was on the edge of its seat but Snape collected himself. Mr.Malfoy, if you disrupt this class one more time-  
  
Like this, you mean?!   
  
Snape set his jaw and rushed up to Draco and Hermione's seats where he took Draco firmly by his arm and yanked him from his chair.  
  
Mr.Malfoy, he growled, you are coming with me to Dumbledore's office. Class, you will remain absolutely silent until I return. Continue copying down the attributes of potents. Snape sounded more calmly fierce then any of them had ever heard him.   
  
Draco followed him out of the classroom but yanked his arm out of Snape's grasp. Lay _off_, ya daft codger. I can walk myself.  
  
Snape ignored him but could be heard grumbling. I _told_ him it was too soon. I told him it would never work. But will he listen?  
  
Hermione, Ron and Harry blinked helplessly at each other.  
  
Ron smiled slightly. Well, that was entertaining.  
  
Harry shook his head. I can't believe Snape didn't explode.  
  
Ron, what was he thinking about when he said all that? Hermione prodded.  
  
Ron shrugged. I don't know! His mind moves too fast and it's all fragmented. I can't make much sense of it.  
  
Hermione only felt a renewed sense of that desire to solve the mystery of Draco. To get past the Wall of the Drawl.  
  
Someone's got to get the bottom of it, she said softly,and it might as well be me.  
  
Harry and Ron gave her withering looks.  
  
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, I _am _his tutor.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
I'm just saying, the nearer I am to him, the itchier it is.  
  
It was nearly ten that night, and the four friends were sitting around the fire in the common room discussing, of course, Draco Malfoy.  
  
Hermione was defensive. But it's not like you-know-who, he's not evil.  
  
I _know_ he's not evil! Harry snapped, frustrated. I didn't said he was evil.  
  
Why else would your scar itch? She asked. And how do you know it's because of Draco?  
  
I don't know, he said, it's just a hunch. But it's awfully coincidental.  
  
  
Ron stroked his chin. Maybe your scar is like... a measure of danger. A sixth sense.  
  
Like a barometer? Hermione asked.  
  
Ron just looked confused.  
  
You didn't hear anything useful in his head? Ginny asked her brother. Did you, Ron?  
  
Ron gazed at the ceiling. He was mostly cursing people and thinking about his father... At that Ron and Harry exchanged a meaningful look. He was thinking about a stone at one point.  
  
A stone? Harry asked. What stone?  
  
I don't know. Something about the dark lord's going to get the stone back anyway'.  
  
Harry was looked perplexed. He couldn't mean the sorcerer's stone. Everyone knows that was destroyed. Was there anything reported about a stone at Grier's Mountain?  
  
Hermione shook her head. Not that I remember. But if it's important enough, the ministry might be keeping it a secret.  
  
They heard a slam and their heads turned to see Draco storming into the common room, headed straight towards his dorm.  
  
Hermione stood quickly.   
  
Draco just snarled. Not tonight, muddy. I have a headache.  
  
With that he slammed into his bed room, leaving the four watching blankly.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. No. Not evil in the least.  
  
********************************************************  
  
_Hermione's dream came out of darkness and suddenly there he was. Draco's face, sweaty and full of fear, and in his eyes the recognition of pure horror. She watched him, feeling his fright and urgency. He was holding something but she couldn't see the whole picture. He had dirt and blood on his white dress shirt. She saw tears, sticky on his dirty cheeks. He was shaking.  
He cried. And now he was whispering desperately. No... I'm sorry...I'm sorry... it can't end be like this...No!  
His chin shook and she heard a whisper that was not his.  
Stop them, Draco.  
And then his eyes went very wide and Hermione could feel his heart beating.   
  
He let go of whatever he was holding and then he was running. Hermione's dream followed him out of a cold dark room and down long gray stony corridors. He ran up stairs and down the halls of what Hermione could only guess was Malfoy Manner. Out the door and into the black night, he ran wildly like an animal. Hermione tossed and turned in her dream, feeling like she was running beside him. Down the barren roads near Malfoy Manner and beyond through forests as purple lightening struck overhead. And soon he was running through the gates of Hogwarts and over the stretches of lawn. She heard his gasping panting and felt his desperation as he burst through the front doors of Hogwarts and she followed him down the halls and up more stairs, further and further until she realized he was taking the steep spiraling stairs to Astronomy Tower. She wanted to stop him. She knew as deeply as she knew how to breathe that this was wrong. But she had no voice. Finally he reached the highest point in Hogwarts and Hermione could only watch as he ran up and stood in the sill of it's largest glassless window. The tails of his shirt flapped in the harsh gusty wind of the angry night and Draco's silent tears flowed down his face as he looked down into the depths of the abyss below Hogwarts. Hermione's heart pulsed dangerously in her chest and she felt her soul screaming but she could only watch as Draco stepped out of the window and fell into the darkness beneath a final purple lightening bolt.  
  
_  
  
Hermione woke with his name on her lips, her blood racing. It had felt so real. More real then any normal dream. She pushed her covers off herself and got out of bed, brushing her hair now damp from sweat, behind her ear with a shaking hand. She glanced at her clock and saw that it was nearly three in the morning. But she was much too wound up to sleep now and the sense that Draco was in some kind of mortal danger was too acute to disbelieve. She decided to sneak into his dorm just to check on him and didn't bother to put a robe on over her pajamas. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down and was once again thankful that as prefect, she had a room of her own. She opened her door quietly and was about to tip toe up the stairs to the boy's dorms when she heard a voice behind her.  
  
  
  
She turned to see Harry in a chair by the fire, looking at her questioningly. Hermione felt briefly embarrassed to be caught in such a position but shrugged the feeling off and padded down the stairs in her bare feet to meet Harry.  
  
What're you doing up? He asked.  
  
Hermione couldn't help but blush. I had a nightmare. It was about Draco. I was going to check on him actually. Have you been up long?  
  
Harry looked a little pale at her explanation. Just a couple of minutes. It's my scar. Ginny's numbing solution wore off. It's worse then ever. It's my whole head. I can't sleep.  
  
Hermione frowned and brushed Harry's hair back off his forehead. She gasped in surprise. Harry, it's glowing!  
  
Harry looked sick.   
  
It's glowing purple! Indeed Harry's scar was lit much like a neon sign. Hermione felt the world spin around her. A purple lightening bolt... she breathed. Draco's in trouble!  
  
She grabbed Harry's hand and started to run to the door.  
  
How do you know?! He demanded, resisting her pull.  
  
I just know! She cried. We've got to go to the tower!  
  
Let me get the cloak! We'll get caught!   
  
She pulled him through the Pink Lady, pleading in her eyes. There's no time! We've got risk it! HURRY!  
  
Harry decided to trust Hermione's prophetic dreams and the two raced down the corridors, passing a bewildered Nearly Headless Nick on the Way. Harry couldn't help but wish he was wearing something a bit more dignified then his red t-shirt and sweatpants as he ran alongside Hermione and hoped against hope that she was right to take the risk, praying that Filch was in some other wing of the castle. He really didn't want to add another detention to his list. They had yet to fulfill their hours of detention due with Hagrid.  
  
It was a familiar sensation, this dire fear for a friend's well-being, indeed for a friend's life. But usually it was Harry or Ron or even Ginny in trouble. It was all too strange yet Hermione was finding herself running with every bit of anxious energy in her body towards Astronomy Tower. And up the stone stairs, four at a time to the top of the tower.  
  
She shrieked.  
  
Harry caught up with Hermione and burst into the top room of the tower. Hermione stopped short, Harry slamming into her.   
  
Draco stood in the sill of the largest window in the tower, his hair blowing in the wind and his white t-shirt over his black trousers billowing up. He was just standing there silently, inches away from oblivion. As soon as she saw him, her heart caught in her throat and she felt an jolting sense of deja vu. Hermione ran forward to the window, grasped him around the waist and fell backward.  
  
Harry yipped in surprise.  
  
The two tumbled to the floor, Draco falling on top of her. Hermione ignored the stone scraping the backs of her arms only awash in gratefulness that she was not too late. Draco rolled off of her and stood up, gaping at Hermione on the floor and Harry in the doorway.  
  
What the hell are you doing?! He demanded.  
  
Hermione pointed at him accusingly. You were going to jump!  
  
Draco Malfoy wasn't often speechless but there were so many odd things about this particular moment in time that he wasn't quite sure where to begin. He did know that he was not eager to discuss _what_ he was doing in the tower, or rather, what he considered doing.  
  
How did you know I was up here?!  
  
Hermione looked away and flinched as if embarrassed.   
  
I dreamt it. She said quietly. I have dreams about you.  
  
Draco, upon whom was heaped not only the normal measure of sixteen year-old confusion but quite a few extra doses as well, could not stop his pulse from inexplicably quickening at the thought that Hermione was dreaming about him even following a near attempt at suicide. Meanwhile in the corner, Harry seemed preoccupied with his forehead. He had also just noticed Malfoy's firebolt, lying on the floor across the room.  
  
_That's odd. He must've flown up here._  
  
What do you mean you dream about me?! What sort of dreams?!  
  
Hermione stood up and dusted herself off. I dreamt you were... Well, you came up here and you jumped out the window. And here you are!  
  
He couldn't get his head around her reply. He couldn't even decide whether or not he was glad she had stopped him. It was a little too bizarre, so he threw it to the back of his mind.  
  
Yes, here I am! Not that it's any business of yours, mudblood. I _told_ you to leave me alone! This doesn't concern you or your heroic little friends!  
  
She stalked towards him and stood between him and the window, putting her hands on each end of the sill behind her.  
  
Yes, it _does_ concern me. You were going to jump. I saw it happen. And I'm not going to let you. You'll have to go through me first.  
  
Her glowered. Don't tempt me, Granger.  
  
Harry sucked in a breath through his teeth, trying to ignore his forehead that felt as if it were vibrating. He'd dealt with monsters before. Dark lords. Giant snakes. Dementors. He had no clue as to how to deal with a suicidal Malfoy. He stepped forward, a tension in his stomach. Draco looked just desperate enough to take Hermione up on her offer.  
  
Careful, Hermione. He said uselessly.  
  
I don't know what happened to you, Draco. They were standing eye to eye. Hermione looked determined as ever, but Draco could hear the wavering in his voice.   
  
  
You don't know ANYTHING! He shouted.  
  
Draco, it doesn't have to be this way! She felt helpless and she didn't know _what_ to say in this situation. She grasped for words. Just... just...  
  
WHAT, MUDBLOOD?! Draco screamed.   
  
JUST TURN FROM IT!   
  
Hermione's cry seemed to echo, at least to Draco. He let out a breath, his mask of rage unchanging. Behind them, Harry watched and felt awkward, suddenly wishing there was some dangerous but necessary wand duel he could partake in that would return the three of them to some semblance of normalcy. Draco finally dropped his gaze and walked across the room, picking up his Firebolt. He held the broom in his left hand and stared at the scar on his right. He walked over to another window in the tower and Hermione felt sick.  
  
She whispered.  
  
Draco was giving them a funny look and leaning, almost sitting on the edge of the sill. Hermione and Harry slowly came forward, hoping they'd be able to stop him if he took the leap. Draco looked out on the windy night, wistful. He held his broom out in front of him.  
  
According to gravity...if I drop this broom and drop myself at the same time, we should fall at the same speed.  
  
Hermione could hardly comprehend what he was saying. All she could think of was the horrifying combination of Draco and the abyss below him.  
  
  
  
She looked at Harry and was somewhat shocked to see an expression of wide eyed anticipation on his face. It happened very fast. She turned back and took another step only to see Draco drop his broom and then himself, nonchalantly launching from the window sill and over the cliffs beneath. Hermione screamed bloody murder and scrambled along with Harry to the window.  
  
He was tumbling through the air and Hermione was screaming hysterically. NO! NOOO!! DRACO!  
  
Harry was grasping her arm tightly and seemed breathless.   
  
She screamed, a hand over her mouth and tears suddenly on her face. Yet even as she screamed, she watched as Draco, falling swiftly through the air toward the rocks below somehow managed to grab his broom barreling end over end beside him, mount it, gain control and fly upwards. He soared high above them, turned in circle and then flew down to the other end of the castle, eventually disappearing through a window into Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Hermione was left with her heart beating dangerously fast, panting and crying.  
  
Oh God... Oh God...  
  
Harry, on the other hand, seemed jubilant. Merlin! That was bloody amazing!  
  
Hermione flapped her hands and gawked at him. Amazing?! Amazing?! He could've been killed! He obviously has a death wish!  
  
  
Harry rolled his eyes but was still grinning. Well, he'd have to to try that, wouldn't he? It's called free falling! I've heard about it, of course. But I've never seen anyone do it!   
Harry was heading back to the stairs babbling as Hermione stood staring at him. He's got to teach me how! That was bloody brilliant! Wait'll I tell Ron!   
  
What Hermione didn't know was that Harry had experienced something of a high when Draco had jumped. The adrenaline had already been pumping in the tension of the moment but when the blonde boy had let go of the ledge, Harry had felt the inexplicable urge to _follow_ him and a heady rush ten times that of anything he'd felt the first time he caught a snitch. The rush ebbed a bit as he talked but he still considered with interest, that he wasn't certain he was in his right mind.  
  
Hermione blinked. He was mad. They were all mad. She was clearly the only sane person left at Hogwarts.  
  
She mumbled. I can't even feel my feet.  
  
Harry stopped suddenly and turned back, his head quirked in confusion.  
  
Hermione? You coming?  
  
*********************************************  
  
**A/N: **Next chapter: Draco's pensieve, a thrilling bout of detention, Dumbledore finally explains it all (or some of it), excellent D/Her moments and something called   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	6. Scars

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin By Heysweet  
  
  
Chapter 5: Scars  
  
Author's Notes:** Reviews are always so very welcome! I hope you like this chapter. It's sizeable and jam packed. Woohoo! Have fun. Enjoy. Yaaay. .  
  
**Chapter 5: Scars**  
  
Hermione ambled back to Gryffindor Tower alongside Harry in a daze. Harry had managed to calm down after she had reminded him in angry whispers, that should they get caught so soon after their last transgression they might be expelled, or worse, get detention with Snape. His behavior worried her nearly as much as Draco's stunt. Harry was always so level headed in a crisis, she couldn't help but wonder why a fancy, albeit death defying quidditch move had managed to distract him from the fact that Malfoy had nearly killed himself. Interestingly, his euphoria had waned as the purple glow in his scar dimmed. Hermione didn't know _what_ to think of that. They nodded goodnights to each other in the common room and Hermione headed back to bed. She couldn't get over how topsy turvy everything had become. Ron the Bullheaded was now reading minds and becoming ridiculously mature about things. She'd talked to Ginny at lunch about potions and Hermione couldn't help but marvel at her obvious brilliance on the subject. Harry was a human black light, Draco was suicidal and as for herself, the irony of her prophetic dreaming had not escaped her. She remembered well the day in third year when she left Trelawney's class in a huff. But she couldn't now ignore the power of her dreaming. If she'd passed her last dream off as a nightmare or a coincidence, she realized, Draco might well be dead by now. Hermione shivered at the thought and stepped into her private bedroom.  
  
You're one stubborn tutor, you know.  
  
Hermione gasped a little and stopped short to see Draco sitting in her window seat, staring out at the night. She took a deep breath and walked to the window, standing near him.  
  
You scared the magic out of me, Malfoy, Hermione said.  
  
He knew very well that she meant his little leap of faith had scared her. She gazed down at him as he stared unblinkingly out at the stars. The half moon was bright through the window and cast shadows on his face so that she couldn't quite see his eyes.  
  
I told you to call me Draco, he reminded her.  
  
She pursed her lips and sat down on the edge of her bed. And I told you to call me Hermione, she said, not '  
  
Fair enough, he muttered.  
  
Hermione sighed and looked away. She didn't notice Draco turn his star gazing upon her and didn't know that he was closely watching the way the moonlight reflected on her long hair and played off her neck when she moved.   
  
Hermione, who usually knew everything, did not have an answer for this situation. Draco was up and down, back and forth and she didn't know what he expected of her.  
  
For that matter, Draco wasn't quite sure what she expected from him.  
  
Why are you doing this? he finally asked, looking straight at her.  
  
Doing what? she asked, rubbing her eyes.  
  
Tutoring me, grabbing me out of windows... Why are you dreaming about me? he asked, his eyes penetrating her.  
  
I don't know exactly why I'm dreaming about you, she admitted.  
  
Plenty of girls dream about me, of course, he pointed out, suddenly slipping into Snarky Draco Mode. I'm just wondering if there's anything outside of the usual reasons?  
  
Prat. They aren't _those_ kind of dreams, she said, though her lips turned up in a wry smile.  
  
Feign to deny it, Hermione, he said. I can understand that it may have so affected you that-  
  
she growled. But she was laughing just the same. He was smiling after all, and she considered that a good thing. They chuckled a bit and then became awkwardly silent.  
  
So why then? he asked again. You didn't have to tutor me.  
  
Hermione stood up and looked around her room, as if for inspiration. she said, grasping for something profound. Because... Because people can change, she said finally. Because I trust Dumbledore's judgment and McGonagall asked me too. And because...  
  
Because what? he said.  
  
That's all really, she said, a bit embarrassed. But it wasn't all. There was also that strong feeling that had simply compelled her to say yes to McGonagall in the first place. There were the dreams themselves and a startling notion that she was just _meant_ to.  
  
Draco nodded, seeming to accept this. He stood up and put his hands in the pockets of his black trousers and slunk against the wall.  
  
You should sleep, he said resignedly.  
  
Can I ask _you_ a question? she said.  
  
You just did, he quipped.  
  
She ignored the cheap joke and went ahead though she knew she was asking for trouble. Were you really going to jump? she asked. And I mean, without the broom.  
  
I think you know when I'll tell you that, Hermione.  
  
It still sounded odd when he said her name. It was the way he drew it out. He said it slower then anyone else she knew.  
  
Right, she said. When you're drunk and I'm dead?   
  
Or the other way around, he said casually. I'm sure we can work something out.  
  
Well, we've already seen you drunk, she said with a twinkle in her eye. And we certainly don't need to see it _again_.  
  
Draco preferred not to think about what he had done and more properly, what had been done to him when he was intoxicated. The memories had returned to him while in the middle of Charms and Draco had silently sunk his head in his hands as a vision of himself with ram horns and green hair danced through his mind. Worse was what he'd done with Hermione. He clearly recollected the phrase sexy little mudblood. The thought made him cringe. Of course, he'd called her that in the tower and over the last two days. But he justified to himself that he didn't mean it anymore, he was just trying to get her out of his face.  
Draco had been, in a sense, scared straight by all that had happened to him a few months ago. He'd been on the verge of rebelling against his father for the past year. And on his periphery had been Hermione, a muggle-born witch.  
  
You should sleep, he said again.  
  
Hermione rolled here eyes. Me? Are _you_ sleeping?  
  
Draco stared at the ceiling, avoiding her gaze.  
  
I thought so, she said. You slept for a few hours in the common room the other night. I just need to get you in a laying down position. Hermione colored even as the words slipped out of her mouth.  
  
Draco's perturbed expression quickly split into a grin, the likes of which Hermione was sure she'd never seen on his face.  
  
he said rather joyfully.  
  
That's not what I meant!  
  
Hermione collapsed backwards in her bed and shut her eyes, frustrated by her unconscious innuendoes. Why did Draco seem to find the lurid in simply _everything_?   
  
_Then again_, she thought, _he probably wasn't thinking on sexual terms regarding me back when he thought of me as scum._   
  
_So, _a logical voice in her mind started to say, _do you imagine he's thinking of you on sexual terms now?  
  
That's not what I meant!_  
  
_Perfect_, she thought, _now his voice is in my head.  
  
_Hermione felt a pressure on her knees and opened her eyes to see Draco, very nonchalantly resting his arms on her folded legs and grinning like the cat who ate the canary.  
  
If it's not what you meant then why, may I ask, are you lying down on a bed? Alone in a room with a strange boy in the middle of the night?  
  
Draco had to admit to himself that this entertaining banter with his pretty faced tutor was putting him in very good spirits. Her slips of the tongue were heartily distracting him from everything else that seemed irreparably damaged. And as a red blooded teenage boy, he couldn't help but derive a great amount of pleasure from dancing around these subjects with the girl who had such soft looking lips.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and tried to sit up, but Draco was insistent on having his arms crossed on her knees and was looking down at her in satisfaction.  
  
But you aren't a strange boy, she argued.  
  
A strange man then? he asked. I can hardly disagree. I am a rather impressive specimen if I do-  
  
Insufferable git! she cried. Just stuff it! I believe I asked you a question and that question was, are you sleeping?  
  
Draco's grin fell a bit.  
  
That's what I thought. Well, as I was saying, you slept alright in the library when I was talking to you...  
  
he agreed. Those family holiday stories put me to sleep instantly.  
  
Hermione responded by kicking him in the ribs with her socked foot to which Draco protested, Hey, that tickles!  
  
_Oh good Merlin_, she thought, _now I've tickled his tummy. _  
  
She also filed away the surprising information that Draco Malfoy, of _all_ people, was actually ticklish. She would've thought he'd be immune.  
  
I was going to say, she said, pretending to be heavily annoyed, that it's probably a psychological reaction and that you probably just need a little human contact...  
  
Draco waggled his eyebrows, What kind of contact are you suggesting, Hermione?  
  
Nothing like that! she said quickly. Good _Lord_! I just meant you probably can't sleep when you're alone. You could sleep with me if you want-  
  
_Oh, bloody..._ Hermione thought weakly.  
  
Hermione grabbed the nearest pillow and held it over her face, groaning silently into goose down. Meanwhile Draco, who was truly having fun for the first time in perhaps half a year and maybe more fun then he'd ever had in his life was laughing hysterically to the point of choking to death.  
  
_Please_, he thought coughing, _let me live so I can remind her of that sentence for the rest of our natural lives.  
  
_Hermione felt Draco plop onto her bed and reluctantly took the pillow off of her beet red face. Draco was mere inches away, lying on his side, his head propped on his hand.  
  
Well, of course I'm flattered-  
  
Draco-  
  
And I _certainly_ understand your feelings-  
  
I meant _sleep_-  
  
But as you _are_ my tutor, I _don't _ see how it would at all be appropriate-  
  
  
  
Draco was finally stopped by a barrage of pillow punching by a rather aggravated Hermione. Draco defended himself and the two tussled and suddenly Draco was very, very grateful for Dumbledore's excellent taste in tutors. Finally Hermione gave up and lay back, exhausted on the bed. Draco didn't realize he was biting his lip. It was just the way she lay there all good naturedly annoyed with him, her hair now mussed and splayed out in all directions.  
  
she said, pouting a little.  
  
Draco lay back next to her. Did you just call me a skrewt?  
  
Highly blast ended.  
  
Draco's lips twitched in amusement. His habit was to spit out the despised but he could hardly do that anymore. The only thing he could think of at the moment was...   
  
  
  
She giggled,Is that an insult? Hermione smacked him on the shoulder.   
  
They were quiet for a bit until Draco broke the silence.  
  
That hurt you know, he said thoughtfully.  
  
she asked. Calling you a ferret? I'm sure it-  
  
he interrupted. I mean when Moody turned me into a ferret. Er, not Moody, he said, correcting himself. Barty junior. Not so much the transfiguring but the bouncing part.  
  
I know, she said. Of course, he shouldn't have done that. Then again, he wasn't really a teacher.  
  
You know why he did that to me of all people, right? he asked.  
  
she said, you were about to hex Harry, weren't you?  
  
Yes, Draco said, but he was trying to get on Potter's good side. And he knew he could do that to me without consequences.  
  
Hermione brain clicked and she realized his point. Oh, because your father and he...  
  
Both death eaters, he finished. Of course, if Lupin or some regular person had pulled that, my father would have had a fit but... Barty junior probably even cleared it with him first.  
  
Hermione felt a pang of sympathy. Draco was busy brooding now. The thought of Barty junior had awakened all his fears and confused emotions.  
  
  
I never wished you harm really, she said. You were mostly just a big brat about things. A nasty bully, but not _evil_.  
  
Hermione was remembering the Hipogriff incident.  
  
As if reading her mind, Draco said suddenly, Of course, the Buckbeak episode hurt much worse.  
  
Hermione snorted a little, You did insult him.  
  
I didn't think he could _really_ understand me, he protested. And he _was_ ugly.  
  
That was scary, Hermione admitted. There was a lot of blood. Not that you didn't milk it for all it was worth.  
  
Draco was chuckling, Be fair, Hermione. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to have Potter and Weasley doing my work for me. And as for Hagrid, you must admit he makes some unwise decisions about his little sessions. I don't _need_ to jump out of a window, I'll probably get killed in one of Hagrid's classes soon enough.  
  
Don't be a prick, Draco, she said happily.  
  
Draco's eyebrow rose in surprise. Right then, prefect. What time is it anyway?  
  
Hermione looked up at the clock which told both muggle and magical time. The clock said what on earth are you doing up and 4:30 am.  
  
Merlin, it's nearly five, she breathed.  
  
Draco shrugged. Yeah, but tomorrow's Saturday.  
  
We should study tomorrow, she said. We've got that potents table...  
  
That's not due to til Friday!  
  
she said. We've got detention with Hagrid tomorrow night too.  
  
Draco sighed, Goody gumdrops. Probably have us birthing manticores or something.  
  
Hermione rolled over onto her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows, looking at Draco.  
  
  
  
He seemed so relaxed beside her. His now longish white blonde hair was tousled and a bit, she had to let herself think, more then a bit... sexy. He was staring up at her with those eyes that she had begun to notice, changed color a little depending on his mood. Sometimes they were a pale gray, the color of rain clouds. And sometimes they darkened, the color of stone. But when he was happy they turned a little blue. He'd called himself a strange boy before, but man did seem to be closer to the truth. It was that man/boy in between time. His shoulders were wide and she could catch a glimpse of some pleasing biceps peaking out from his short sleeves. Boys, she realized, always seemed to just sprout muscles at about age fifteen. Of course, he'd played quidditch the year before but that was nearly six months ago. Had she ever noticed how handsome he was? She probably hadn't let herself.  
  
Hermione was so lost in thought that she didn't quite realize that on Draco's side of things, they were in the midst of a very intense pause in the conversation during which their eyes were fixed on each other. Hermione's hair was falling around her shoulders and so long that it was brushing against his arm. Draco could hardly contain himself. He wondered if she had any idea. Here she was after all, a beautiful girl paying him a lot of attention. He was used to girls paying him attention, but it was usually a very artificial, fawning attention, all loud and girlish flirtation. This was different.  
  
He wanted to kiss her. His mouth was open a little and his breath was quick. He really,_ really_ wanted to kiss her. Instead he settled for raising his right hand to play with the hair that was torturing him, which he still considered daring for their purposes. Hermione seemed to snap out of her trance and smiled.  
  
I hadn't made up my mind, he said.  
  
She quirked her eyebrows as he twirled a tress around her fingers. About what?  
  
About jumping, he said simply. Without the broom.  
  
Hermione's expression turned serious and she nodded. She reached up and took the hand that was fidgeting with her hair in her own two hands. She was examining his scars as if solving an arithmancy problem and tracing them with her fingers.  
  
  
I'm glad you didn't, she said. Although that free fall stunt was terrifying.  
  
You know about free falling? he asked.  
  
She shook her head. Harry told me what it was. He was very impressed.  
  
Draco felt a surge of satisfaction. Harry was easily the best quidditch player in the school now and he considered it a victory that he'd pulled that dangerous feat before Potter had tried it.  
  
Hermione let go of his hand and laid on her side, her head settled on a pillow. Draco saw her heavy eyelids looking droopy.  
  
You can sleep if you want, he said.  
  
I'm not sleeping til you sleep, she insisted.  
  
I'm not tired.  
  
They lay there silently and Hermione held out for a long while until she finally nodded off.   
he said softly. You asleep?  
  
She didn't answer and Draco stared at the ceiling trying to picture the future. Hermione apparently could predict the future, or dreamt it anyway. He reminded himself to ask her more about her dreams. It sounded like she'd had a few that concerned him. Maybe Hermione could tell him something about his destiny. Though, according to Dumbledore, there was no such thing as destiny. It was Hermione echoing his father's words that had stopped him in the tower.  
  
_Just turn from it..._  
  
She made it sound possible.   
  
Draco looked at Hermione and whispered, You made me want to live.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
You're kidding!  
  
Ron's eyes were lit up like a wizard's Christmas tree.  
  
I thought he was dead for sure! Harry exclaimed.  
  
He's _got_ to show us how. I've only seen pictures. _Quiddit ch News_ keeps running warnings against free falling. It's pretty underground, everyone thinks it's too dangerous.  
  
It can't possibly be allowed here, Harry pointed it out.   
  
They were digressing, Harry suddenly realized. The real point of the story was that Draco was so desperate, he'd nearly leapt to his death. That and the mysteriously glowing scar which was more then a bit troublesome.  
  
Oh yeah, Harry said casually. And my scar was glowing.  
  
Ron's eyes widened. Your scar was what?!  
  
Harry looked around to see heads turning around the Gryffindor Table where they sat eating breakfast and grimaced.  
  
Harry hissed. Do you want to start a riot? he whispered.  
  
That can't be good! Ron whispered.   
  
Harry shrugged. It was itching worse then ever, that's why I found Hermione. And she told me it was glowing purple but it went away later, when we got back from Astronomy Tower. I was going to talk to Dumbledore, Harry said worriedly. But I asked McGonagall before breakfast and she said he's away on ministry business all day.  
  
Ron nodded. You think you should tell... Snuffles?  
  
Harry shook his head vehemently. Absolutely not! Ron, if I tell him he'll come running out here and he can't take the risk. And besides that, he's got more important things to worry about.  
  
The subject of Serious was a sore one. After two and a half years, his name had still not been cleared and he was still on the run. Ever since the truth had come out about Crouch in fourth year, the ministry had been as loath as ever to admit they had made a mistake. From what Harry understood from his letters, Serious was somewhere hiding in secret with a tightly knit group of aurors all of whom were, in a sense, outcasts of the ministry and keeping their own tabs on Voldemort's activities. Lupin was with him, according to a letter referring to a pet wolf.   
  
Harry didn't like thinking about the absence of the closest thing he had to a father and quickly changed the subject.  
  
Do you have any idea what Ginny is up to? Harry asked. She keeps mumbling about a special potions project and disappearing into Snape's dungeons.  
  
Ron shrugged. I don't know exactly, but she was thinking a lot about the Voxius potion last night.  
  
Voxius changes your voice, doesn't it? Harry asked.  
  
I think so, Ron said.  
  
Harry mulled over his suddenly mysterious girlfriend and poked at his porridge.  
  
I wonder where Hermione is, he said. Not like her to sleep in. Even on a Saturday.  
  
Ron's eyes rolled up to the ceiling. Um... I don't read her or Malfoy right now. Then again, I've been buzzy all morning. There are about a hundred people in my head right now and I have no idea what language they're thinking in.  
  
I need to know what happened with Draco, Harry said.  
  
Don't look at me, Ron muttered. I can hardly make sense of him.  
  
I have an idea how to find out... Harry said slowly.  
  
Ron, who was usually up for any semi-dangerous or fully dangerous exploit was a little wary of Harry's tone.  
  
What is it? Ron asked.  
  
Harry said, he does have a pensieve... Odds are, he's used it already.  
  
Ron narrowed his eyes. Harry, I've already seen inside Malfoy's brain. Do I have to jump into his memories too?  
  
Ron, my scar is glowing.  
  
You may have a point.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Hermione and Draco slept right through breakfast on Saturday morning and until nearly eleven. At around ten-thirty, Draco eased out of a peaceful sleep and into a very pleasant reality. He opened his eyes to see that Hermione was treating him much like a gigantic teddy bear. She slept with her head on his shoulder, her arm over his chest almost protectively and her leg flung over his body.  
  
Draco sighed,You're a _very_ good tutor.  
  
Her hand was right over his heart and he wondered how the pulse of it's beating had not wakened her. He put his left hand over hers and imagined himself waking up in a similar position with Hermione every morning. He felt her stir and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep.  
  
Hermione woke and her breath caught in her throat. Draco's face was turned toward hers and very close. She slowly became aware of her unprofessional position.  
  
_Oh, great green crikey in the sky, why didn't I see this coming?_  
  
Hermione wasn't sure what her move should be. Particularly since she was luxuriously comfortable. Draco was lean and muscular but in this relaxed state was quite a useful pillow. She was also fascinated by the beating of his heart under her hand. Hermione decided she was becoming much too aware of his body and started to move her hand when she felt him tighten his grip slightly. But he couldn't stop her from moving her leg which she did with some reluctance. He was disappointed at first until Hermione pulled a surprising move, sliding lazily over him on her front to get to the other side of the bed forcing Draco to let go of her hand. Draco nearly gave himself away, his breath catching in his throat just a little as Hermione's rather scantily clad self slid over his body. It was, he thought to himself, more like a move that only a lover would make.  
  
  
  
Draco opened his eyes.  
  
Good morning, Hermione said cheerfully. Did you sleep alright?  
  
Yes, actually, he mumbled. Could use a bit more sleeping in fact, Draco said, rolling over on his stomach and burrowing into Hermione's pillows.  
  
Draco! _Draco_! Hermione protested. It's eleven o'clock! We've got to study, you've got so much catching up to do! And we've only got six hours before detention!  
  
Draco opened his eyes and ogled Hermione. Good Merlin, woman. You'll be the death of me.  
  
Hermione found this amusing given their activities the night before and smiled. She got up and preceded to grab Draco's hands, attempting to drag the apathetic Malfoy off the bed. Hermione got to her feet and gave a hearty yank which made her stumble, bringing both herself and Draco to the floor.   
  
C'mon, you slug! she huffed.   
  
Draco found himself lying across Hermione's legs and propped himself up on his elbow.  
  
I thought you wanted me in a laying down position? he asked with a typically sardonic expression.  
  
Hermione matched his wry smile. she said simply.  
  
Draco heaved a melodramatic sigh and stood up, stretching.  
  
Alright, prefect. Would you mind terribly if I took the luxury of a shower first? Or would that interfere too severely with our studies?  
  
she commanded, crossing her ankles on the floor. And potion those teeth. You've got dragon's breath.  
  
His reply was a deftly thrown pillow which bounced off Hermione's still sleepy eyed face and disheveled her already mussed hair.  
  
Never in my life! she heard him declare as he left the room with a swagger.  
  
Hermione shook her head. Moody boy, that one.  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Once Draco and Hermione had showered and dressed, it was already time for lunch. They ate with Harry, Ron and Ginny all of whom were acting a little bit shifty. Harry and Ron kept sneaking sly looks at each other when Draco wasn't looking while Ginny just looked a bit wild-eyed and kept muttering under her breath about how the wizarding world had grievously underestimated echinacea. Hermione rushed Draco through lunch, harping about their dwindling study time and finally the two made their way to the library for research on Snape's potents table and some catch-up on arithmancy.  
  
Don't think I'm doing all your work for you, she said brusquely as they strode down the corridor. I'm your tutor, but I'm not one of your old minions like Crabbe or Goyle.  
  
Are you mad, woman? Draco said incredulously. You think I ever used Crabbe or Goyle to do my homework for me? I do want to _pass_ my classes, you realize.  
  
Hermione chuckled. Would you be saying that if this were fifth year?  
  
It's never been a secret that Crabbe and Goyle are blithering twitters, Draco said. They've got the combined intelligence of Barny the Fruitbat but without the personality. And besides that, they're not exactly on my list of favorite people after the other night. But I'll get them back. Zabini and Parkinson too. Bunch of traitors.  
  
Hermione cast him a sidelong glance. she said, you did choose to leave Slytherin...  
  
Draco's eyes flashed. How did _you_ know that?  
  
I have my ways, she said mysteriously. But I wondered why.  
  
Draco sighed and his usual expression of sardony returned.   
  
The dungeons are so damp, he drawled, it was ruining my complexion.  
  
Hermione though annoyed at his lack of answer just nodded as she pushed open the door of the library. Immediately the twenty inhabitants of the library including Madam Pince, turned their heads to stare at the two Gryffindors. Draco held his head up and swaggered past the tables of gawkers.  
  
'Morning, all! he said loudly,as Hermione followed. Lovely to see you all looking brainless and vacant eyed as usual. Close those mouths, Hufflepuffs! Hasn't Sprout taught you to breathe through your noses yet?  
  
Madam Pince looked greatly affronted and was about to shush them until Hermione gave her an appeasing expression and grabbed Draco by the hand, rushing him to a study room. Hermione shut the door of the small study, one of some private rooms set aside for sixth and seventh years.  
  
Why did you have to say that? Hermione groaned.  
  
Draco shrugged and set his bag down on a large mahogany table.  
  
They obviously wanted a show, Draco said, I thought I might as well give them one.  
  
Hermione reflected on this as she unpacked her bag and soon the two were engulfed in the finer points of advanced arithmancy. With Hermione's help Draco was catching up on the concepts he'd missed and Hermione was impressed his with adeptness on the subject. But after an extended period of studying Hufflian Kinetics, Draco was starting to see arithmancy formulas in double vision.  
  
Draco grunted. Can we take a break?  
  
Hermione blinked.   
  
She vaguely recollected the idea from the frustrated mumblings of Harry and Ron.  
  
My mind's gone foggy, Draco declared.   
  
Hermione, who could study a single subject for sixteen hours and literally forget to eat also tended to forget that others did not share her singular stamina for academics. She nodded and sat back in her chair, taking the moment to stretch. Draco sat up and couldn't help but watch, transfixed as Hermione extended her arms above her head and arched her back, letting out a satisfied murmur of pleasure.   
  
Draco swallowed.  
  
I was wondering, Hermione said, following a yawn, why you like muggle music so much?  
  
Draco shook himself out of his daze and leaned forward on his elbows. Hermione was looking at him intently, now leaning her head on her hand.  
  
Do you like it better then wizard's music? she asked.  
  
Draco didn't have to think about that one. he said, I do. Strange, I suppose.  
  
she pressed.  
  
Because muggle music is... Draco's eyes wandered for inspiration, as if the answers were written on the ceiling. It's... raw.  
  
Hermione rose her eyebrows.   
  
Draco said, raw. It's like... Wizard musicians _always_ use magic in their music. They have magical instruments too. Even The Weird Sisters. And they sound good but they sound... too smooth. Magic guitars sound different then those electric kind. They use magic to improve their songs and make the melody flawless but I think by using magic they don't... I dunno, learn from the mistakes they would've made. They don't use that instinct, I've heard most wizarding bands mostly steal from muggle bands too. It's almost like... like... Draco grasped for words and sighed.  
  
Like maybe... Hermione started to say, There's another kind of magic they're missing out on?  
  
Draco felt his heart tug a bit. That's _exactly_ what I was trying to say, he whispered.  
  
Hermione smiled. So do you only like that classic rock stuff? she asked.  
  
Draco frowned. What do you mean?  
  
All the songs I've heard you singing, she said. Those are all around thirty years old. Classic rock. Alot has happened since then. Punk, ska, new wave, grunge, rap, dance, techno, emo, alt rock, electronica...  
  
Draco looked genuinely aroused. I've _got_ to get to London, he muttered.  
  
But, Hermione said firmly, none of those are potents.  
  
Draco moaned dramatically as Hermione got up and made her way back into the main body of the library and toward the potions section. He got up eventually and followed her, though his mind was on music now and trying to figure the soonest opportunity when he could get to a muggle music store. Or maybe, he thought, he could convince Hermione to ask her parents to shop for him.  
  
_I'll need one of those disky thingies!_  
  
****************************************************************  
After breakfast was Quidditch practice, Harry was the team captain this year, and after Quidditch practice was lunch. During lunch Harry had listened to Hermione babble about nothing but how much studying Draco needed to do in the library, and threw a very purposeful thought in Ron's direction concerning their pensieve scheme. Ron who was feeling briefly clear headed again, nodded meaningfully. After Ginny had rushed back to the dungeons and Harry and Ron were sure that Draco and Hermione were squirreled away in the library, the two hot footed their way to Gryffindor Tower. Draco's room was thankfully empty of second years but Harry still felt odd snooping around Malfoy's things. The pensieve was not out but Ron found it in the bottom drawer of Draco's dresser. The two of them took the basin out carefully and set it on the floor.  
  
Ron felt his heart pounding as he suspected that Draco's memories though by themselves harmless, were not for the faint of heart. They two just stared into the shallow misty pool and Harry drew his wand and touched it lightly to the silvery liquid.   
  
said Harry, he has used it.  
  
They watched as the silver cleared and a room appeared. It was a dark bedroom of high stone walls and ornate wrought-iron furniture. Draco was in the bedroom, standing toe to toe with Lucius Malfoy. They appeared to be having an argument and finally Lucius shoved Draco against the wall and put his wand to his son's throat. Lucius cast some sort of spell that made the little veins and capillaries in Draco's face stand out a bright red and the boy's mouth stretched wide in a silent scream. Ron and Harry winced at Draco's obvious pain.  
  
Ron could hardly breathe. What the hell kind of spell is that?  
  
I've never seen it before, Harry said.  
  
Harry reached forward and prodded the pool again. This time they watched as the figure of a girl a few years older then them rose out of the waters and Harry was reminded of his first experience with a pensieve, when he'd seen Bertha Jorkins looming from Dumbledore's memories. But this girl was lying down on a stone bench of some kind and Harry and Ron gasped when they saw her face. She was extremely pale and gaunt, her face just skin and bones and most alarmingly, she appeared to be bleeding from... everywhere. Her eyes, which they saw were pure white as if she'd been blinded, wept blood and it dribbled from her mouth and nose.  
  
Who's that? Ron whispered.  
  
Harry shook his head. I don't know, Harry said, but she's dying.  
  
The girl was shaking, as if from fever and her breath came shallow. She reached out a small hand, assumingly to an invisible Draco.  
  
the girl rasped. You can stop them...  
  
The girl coughed and closed her eyes as drops of blood oozed out of them.  
  
It's okay... she breathed. The girl convulsed and the her life seemed to fade further before them. Don't cry, Draco... you can... stop them... Draco...  
  
With her final words, the girl's body relaxed and her head fell back.  
  
Harry looked at Ron with grave eyes.  
  
She's dead.  
  
************************************************************  
  
Draco was the only person Hermione knew who could look graceful carrying a two foot stack of books in his arms. Hermione meanwhile carried three large anthologies including _Fennian's Potentes Complexius_. As the assignment wasn't due for nearly a week, Hermione was assured of plenty of research material still available. She led the way back to their room and Hermione frowned to see a strange book lying on their table. It was certainly a book that did not belong to either one of them. Hermione set her selections on the table and stood in front of the massive tome that lay open atop their arithmancy notes.  
  
Where did this come from? she asked rhetorically.  
  
Draco set his books on the table and gingerly dusted off his hands.  
  
Where did what come from?  
  
This book, Hermione said. We didn't leave it here. I've never even seen it before. I think it's from the restricted section.  
  
She gazed down on the open book, not touching it. It appeared to be an anthology of ancient magical artifacts. It was open to an illustration of a strangely shaped gray rock and a lengthy description and history of the stone.  
  
What's the frozen flame'? I've haven't heard of it...  
  
Her words trailed off when she looked up to see Draco, standing beside her, his face ashen and horror in his eyes. Draco had that feeling one gets when the world seems to shift around them. He stepped back and spun around, as if whoever had placed the book on the table would suddenly apperate out of the shadows.  
  
Who did this? he whispered. Who put this here?!  
  
I don't know, Hermione said. Draco, what's wrong? What's the Frozen Flame?  
  
Draco couldn't breathe. He was seeing visions of bleeding eyes, of death and hooded men and that terrible stone. The walls seemed to be closing in and felt the ground slip from under his feet.  
  
******************************  
  
  
  
Hermione heard Draco's voice from beyond the gloom and slowly opened his eyes.  
  
What... The flame! No! He said quickly, sitting up.  
  
Draco, calm down! Hermione commanded. I think you had a flashback of some kind. And then suddenly you leaned on the table and fell to the floor. You passed out. I had to cast a spell to revive you.  
  
Draco rubbed his aching head where it had hit the floor and frowned.  
  
I didn't faint in a girly way did I? He asked wryly.  
  
Hermione set her jaw in exasperation.  
  
_Even at a time like this!_  
  
No, it was very manly, she said. Now would you tell me what all this is about?  
  
Draco was avoiding her eyes.  
  
she said. Somebody put this book here for some purpose so I need to know what's going on and I think you need to tell me. It's... Well, it's killing you!  
  
Hermione leaned in close, but it was only when she touched his hand that he began to feel that overwhelming sense of horror lift.  
  
Tell me, she whispered. It's alright.  
  
Draco stood and sat back down at the table. He did want to tell her. Dumbledore's pensieve had helped with his little episodes but he needed to let it all come out to someone. And he had the distinct feeling that Hermione needed to know as much as he needed to tell her.   
  
He started to open his mouth and immediately closed it. There was so much to tell that he hardly knew where to start. He closed his eyes and all he could see was his father.  
So Draco decided to start there.  
  
Draco said, you've known my father was a death eater at least since the Triwizard. But that was only the beginning. I had foolishly believed what my mother told me. That Lucius was only in it for appearances as one of the pureblood elite. And after the tournament my father said publicly that he was getting out. He said he had run from the dark mark at the Quidditch Cup because he wanted out. He even said that he had been tricked into the whole thing.  
  
Draco shook his head and sighed. I don't know if I ever really believed that but I wanted to. I did think he was leaving it behind in fifth year. I was a good son to my father as a child. I believed what he believed with a child's mind. It didn't hit me until I came home after fifth year. Even after Cedric's death I didn't... or I didn't want to...  
  
His voice trailed off and Hermione squeezed his hand. He looked up to see the compassion in her eyes where he had thought he would he see anger.  
  
It's okay, she whispered. It's okay, Draco.  
  
When she said it he believed her and he continued.  
  
When I came home after fifth year, Draco said, I realized that not only did he have every intention on serving _him_ but that he was quickly becoming you-know-who's right hand man next to Pettigrew.  
  
Hermione looked somewhat surprised and Draco nodded. Oh yes, I know all about him. He came to the house often to discuss plans. All of them. Crabbe and Goyle's father, Nott and Macnair. You remember Lestrange broke out of Azkaban last year? They were there too. The death eaters were meeting at our house more and more. I heard them making plans, talking about exterminating the unwanted element' for good. They were talking about something called the Frozen Flame, but I didn't know what it was. The whole thing was starting to get under my skin. I can't explain it, but something bothered me...  
  
Hermione's stifled a chuckle. I think that was your conscious, Draco. Took a while to kick in.  
  
Draco rose his eyebrows. Oh, that's what that feels like... odd. He paused and then continued his story. One night in July I couldn't sleep. I went downstairs to the kitchen and I heard a commotion in the corridor. I peaked out and saw Lucius and Pettigrew and Lestrange carrying something toward our dungeons. It was a girl but she was unconscious. I think they petrified her. I couldn't make out much of what they were saying. They talked about perfecting some kind of extraction technique. At the time I didn't know what they were extracting. It took me three days to be able to sneak down to the dungeons. I had to buy an invisibility cloak and brew some Confusion Concoction to throw off the guards and sneak it into their supper. That was when I met Lauren.  
  
Draco looked particularly pained and dropped his gaze to stare away at the wall.  
  
Lauren was a muggle, an innocent girl. She was only a few years older then us. They kept her in a cell in our dungeon. She was disoriented, she thought she was dreaming or crazy. I explained to her where she was and about the magical world.   
  
Draco swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. I didn't make any promises. I was confused, I guess. I hadn't much close contact with muggles and she certainly didn't seem like what my father taught me a muggle was. A day later I went out to Bunger's Library on Knockturn Alley, trying to find out what about the Frozen Flame. I found a copy of this book, in fact. But by the time I got back to Lauren, she was already sick. I became her... friend. I told her I would help her. And I knew then that my father or you-know- Draco cleared his throat, or _Voldemort_ had managed to recover both pieces of the stone.  
  
Hermione shook her head. Draco, I don't understand. What made her sick?  
  
Draco pointed at the book. Don't you see? The Frozen Flame is a stone that contains a plague. A deadly plague that only strengthens with time.  
  
Draco leaned closer and pointed at the illustration in the middle of the second page.  
  
Right there, the picture of the stone makes it look as if it is coming apart. But actually it is coming together. The Frozen Flame is in two identical pieces, once brought together and activated it will spread a plague that will destroy everything it infects. You know your history, Hermione. The Bubonic Plague?  
  
Binns said it was created by a powerful dark wizard, Halitos the Bugger, Hermione said dutifully. Are you saying...  
  
Draco met her eyes and for the first time she could really see not only his fear but some sense of guilt. They'll tell you that it was a dark wizard who created the Black Death which killed millions, Draco said. That it was stopped by Alberic Grunnion who died along with Halitos the Bugger when Grunnion ended it with a series of spells that was never recorded. They'll tell you that the Ministry created the myth of the disease as a natural phenomenon in fear of a worse backlash against the wizarding world. What they don't say is that the stone, _that_ stone, the Frozen Flame is what actually contained the plague and it was never destroyed. Only separated and hidden. And if it is again released, the plague will only be worse. And it is. I've seen it. It's been fermenting for more then six hundred years.  
  
Hermione could hardly breathe, so frightened was she now that she knew this much of the truth.  
  
she said softly, wouldn't the plague have killed the very wizard that created it? It would kill everyone.  
  
Draco stood up and Hermione watched as he turned away from the seemingly harmless book on the table.  
  
It doesn't kill everyone, he said in a low voice. It only kills muggles.  
  
*********************************************************************  
Harry and Ron knelt, hovering over the waters of the pensieve where the girl had melted back into it's gray mists. The liquid swirled and then cleared and there the girl was again inside the pensieve, this time alive though in the same state she was in before and alone in what looked like a dungeon cell.  
  
Harry furrowed his brow with determination. I think we should go in.  
  
Ron nodded but looked apprehensive.  
  
It's not like anything can happen to us. It's just a pensieve, he pointed out.  
  
Ron nodded and the two tentatively reached forward with their fingers and touched the liquid in the basin. The Gryffindor dorm tumbled around them and soon they were standing near the girl who lay on the same stone bench in a cold and damp room that was obviously a dungeon. At the end of the room was a steep staircase that led to a heavy door. Ron and Harry gazed down at the girl who lay helpless and bleeding, breathing with great difficulty and occasionally convulsing. Harry knew there was nothing he could do but still felt the urge to help her in some way. His thoughts were interrupted when the door above them burst open, seemingly of it's own accord. They could hear the quick footsteps coming down the staircase but there was no one there. And then Draco's head appeared, hovering next to them. Draco took off an invisibility cloak and tossed it aside. He looked the worse for wear, as if he'd just come from a particularly rough quidditch match, in a wizard's white dress shirt under Hogwarts robe that was untucked and dirtied with muck and what looked like a few spots of blood. His hair was damp with sweat and there was a cut on his forehead.  
  
The girl wheezed,  
  
Draco knelt at her side and took her hand in his own. he said, I'm sorry I took so long. I was looking for a cure.  
  
There is... no cure... is there? Lauren said between heavy breaths.  
  
Draco avoided the answer. Um... There's a wizard I know who could help us. The headmaster of my school, but I couldn't find him. I sent him an owl. You remember I told you about owls?  
  
she whispered, I'm going soon...  
  
He shook his head. he said firmly, Dumbledore will find us. He'll know how. He'll know how to cure you.  
  
Where's your... father? Lauren asked.  
  
They're going to Grier's Mountain, he said quietly.  
  
Ron and Harry saw Lauren with what little strength she had, squeeze Draco's hand.  
  
Did they... take the... stone? she asked.  
  
Draco nodded.   
  
she cried with sudden energy, you've got... to stop them. You've got to.  
  
Ron and Harry were equally somewhat shocked to see tears slip down Draco's cheeks.  
  
he said, I can't leave you alone like this! We've got to wait for Dumbledore. For the cure.  
  
She squeezed his hand again. There's... no cure... Draco.  
  
Draco wept and reached up to the brush the hair away from Lauren's damp forehead. There is, he whispered, I know there is. He can find it.  
  
You said... I was... your first... human friend? Lauren whispered.  
  
Draco smiled a little through his tears. My first muggle friend. Wizards are human too.  
  
The girl seemed to be in particular pain suddenly and her eyes shut but she spoke with effort. It's... enough, she rasped. I'm glad... you... found me.  
  
Draco cradled her head with on arm put the other over her protectively.  
  
I'm sorry, he cried. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...  
  
she whispered, you'll... stop them. You're a... good person... Draco...  
  
he said, shaking his head, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry!  
  
She convulsed again and whimpered a little. I... need to... go...  
  
Draco was trembling. he cried.  
  
Draco... you can stop them.  
  
Draco whispered, tears falling and held her head in his hands, No... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... It can't end like this... No!  
  
It's okay, she breathed, her body seizing up. Don't cry, Draco.... You can... stop them... Draco...  
  
With that, as Harry and Ron expected, the girl's eyes slipped shut and she relaxed in Draco's arms. Harry looked at Ron who shared his expression of sympathetic horror.  
  
Draco cried. No... No...  
  
Draco knelt there silently for a few moments and then rubbed his eyes and sniffed. He stood up slowly and took off his robe, laying it carefully over the girl's body. For a moment he looked down at the dead girl and then he raised his head. Harry saw in his expression a familiar looking fierceness. Draco looked ready to kill. He whipped around and rushed up the stairs, slamming the cell door behind him.   
  
Harry was just wondering if they should attempt to follow when the walls around them blurred and the scene changed. The two found themselves outside in the darkness of a cold and violently windy night. They were standing beneath a tree. They stepped forward and just behind a grouping of wild foliage, irrationally feeling like they needed to hide. They saw to their right, forbidding cliffs ending in the gray foamed crashing waves of the sea. In front of them was a huge circle of sharp edged boulders and inside the circle were several large wooden posts. In the middle stood several men in black, hooded robes and next to them what looked like the dead bodies. Though on closer inspection, Harry saw that they were not dead but petrified into stillness. They turned to look behind them and behind the trees saw Draco zoom in just above the ground on his broom and set down quickly for a landing at a run. Draco was wild eyed and Harry felt he could actually see the adrenaline in his veins. It was an odd sensation as they saw Draco step up and hide behind the foliage just inches from them.  
  
We're here, aren't we? Ron said needlessly.  
  
Of course, said Harry, Grier's Mountain.  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
You're telling me that the Frozen Flame wasn't recovered that night? Hermione asked in a shaky voice.  
  
Draco stood, staring out of the window.  
  
he said. I was able to gather that much from Dumbledore when he visited me at home. He said it was thrown into the sea but they haven't found it yet. I'm not even sure that's true and I'm not supposed to tell you that. No one is supposed to know. Very few even know that the Frozen Flame was found at all.  
  
I don't understand, Hermione said. Tell me how it happened.  
  
Draco took a another in a series of deep breaths.   
  
I knew Lauren was sick after I read about the Flame. They'd developed a way to infect just one person with the plague to test it out. They wanted to see how potent it had become. How long it took to kill someone. In Lauren's case it took a week and I managed to sneak into her cell everyday. She was in a lot of pain, more then she could bear. She went blind and bled for no particular reason. She had open sores and her bones were decaying.  
  
Draco stalked to the window seat and leaned on the wall. I was stupid! I waited too long to look for Dumbledore. I thought I could do it myself. I researched everything I could find on the Frozen Flame, all the theories on Grunnion's cure. Anything I could find. But nothing worked. All I could do was give her pain potion and perform small healing spells. Finally, I went looking for Dumbledore. I ran away and came all the way back to Hogwarts but he was away and they wouldn't tell me where. All I could do was owl him. I didn't know what to do and I didn't trust the ministry. That Fudge is all too friendly with my father. That afternoon I tried to sneak back down to the dungeon. But father and his... associates were already there. They were examining' Lauren.  
  
Draco shut his eyes. I could hear her screaming, pleading for her life! They were hurting her! They were-  
  
His voice broke and he felt a hand on Hermione's hand on his shoulder.  
  
I had no plan, Draco said, But I tried to stop them. Lestrange stopped me quickly enough with a _crucio_. My father told me I was weak willed and all the rest of it. They locked me in my room and I knew they were going to Grier's Mountain with the stone to release it into the world. I managed to escape without using magic.  
  
Hermione looked at him questioningly.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. I jumped out the window.  
  
Hermione couldn't help but be amused. That's a nasty habit you have.  
  
Thankfully, the ground broke my fall and I snuck through the outside passage into the dungeons. Draco's face darkened again. Lauren was dying.  
  
They two sank down into the window seat and Hermione kept her hand on his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly though she felt her own tear slip down her cheek.  
  
She knew there was no cure. She told me to stop them but I wanted to wait for Dumbledore. And then it was too late. She died. Just died there in front of me.  
  
Hermione wept silently and Draco stared at his shoes. I'd never seen anyone die like that. Up close and painfully. I could almost feel it. And then I left. All I could do was scribble out another owl to Dumbledore and pray he got it and I took off for Grier's Mountain on my broom. I got there just in time to see them about to start the rites of the Flame. They had a bunch of people petrified. I later found out that they were both muggles and wizards, muggle-born of course. And from what I had read, the ritual depended on their deaths.  
  
*******************  
  
Harry, Ron and the pensieve version of Draco watched from behind the bush. The death eaters were binding the petrified people to the wooden posts. Harry already knew from the newspaper stories, that some of them were wizards, most of them muggles and a few were children. He glanced at Draco who stood, clenching his wand, seemingly uncertain of his next move. Ron was examining the death eaters who, except for Lucius, were all hooded.  
  
Has it occurred to you, said Ron, that someone is conspicuously missing from this little get together.  
  
Harry was grimacing. You mean Voldemort.  
  
  
  
Harry rubbed his chin. I think... He_ is_ here... In some way.   
  
Harry decided to prove his theory and walked around from behind the bush toward the death eaters. Ron followed and they stood near Lucius who was shouting commands at the other death eaters.  
  
Tighter bonds there, Nott! Quickly! Time is running short! My day of glory is at hand!  
  
Harry's eyes widened. He shouted to Ron excitedly, Did you hear that? He's speaking as Voldemort! A death eater would never say that! Look in his eyes! They keep turning red!  
  
What then? Ron asked. Polyjuice? Are you saying that Draco Malfoy killed Voldemort?!  
  
Harry said quickly. Too simple. It's something else. Something like what happened with Quirrel first year!  
  
Lucius held his hand up to reveal a gray stone carved to look something like a sculpture of fire on his palm.  
  
We must assume that my weak willed son has already contacted that dolt of a headmaster! Lucius growled. He eyed the stone in with a sense of awe, his eyes again flashing the red of the dark lord.  
  
He's speaking as Lucius too! Harry said. They're inhabiting the same body somehow!  
  
The death eaters finished tying the bodies to posts and formed a circle around one particularly large boulder on top of which Lucius placed the stone.  
  
Now we find out how it really happened, Ron whispered.  
  
The death eaters were chanting incantations while Lucius waved his wand around at the posts and said,_Finite incantatum_!  
  
************  
... Then he ended the petrification, Draco was saying. There were a lot of death eaters, thirteen I think. I don't know who all of them were. They were chanting and I don't remember what they were saying but the stone started to turn orange. Then Lucius cast a spell that turned his wand into a sword and went to a muggle woman tied to a post. He was chanting along with them and he was about to kill her. I didn't know what to do at first. I knew it was impossible to take them alone and I'd been waiting for Dumbledore. So instead I stayed hidden and tried to remember everything I'd learned in school...  
  
************  
  
It was hard to look.  
  
It was like watching a horror film and already knowing the end. They knew Malfoy would live but they also knew that eight innocent people would die. Ron had counted thirteen people tied to the posts. One for every death eater, he noticed. They were in a circle chanting and Lucius was approaching a muggle woman with the wand he had turned into a sword. It was noisy, what with the loud chanting, the gusty wind and the crashing of waves below.  
  
Harry had his eyes on the stone. Whatever that rock is, it must have something to do with that girl dying!  
  
But Ron was watching Draco who he could just barely see behind the bushes far away.  
  
C'mon Malfoy, Ron muttered to himself. Do something!  
  
Lucius was just about to cut the throat of a terrified muggle woman when suddenly she broke away from the post and ran right under Lucius' arm.  
  
Ron's eyes lit up.   
  
He ran around behind the posts to see all the bindings untying themselves. And then he looked to the death eaters to see strange things happening indeed. One of the death eaters was putting out a fire on the hem of his robe, another was throwing up slugs. And then Ron couldn't help grin to hear a loud bang and see another turn into a ferret!  
  
Alright, Malfoy! he cheered.  
  
He ran back to the bushes to see Draco flicking his wand about, rapidly spouting hexes and spells under his breath like mad, sweat pouring down his face. Meanwhile, Harry was watching the confusion as the death eaters shouted counter spells and _finite incantatums_ while still attempting to chant. Harry was quite impressed. The muggles had all been untied. The children seemed frozen in terror and some of the adults had started to run only to be petrified, unpetrified by Draco and repetrified. Some of them had been caught by a few death eaters who were attempting to tie them back up. But a few seemed to have escaped the scene and Harry wondered if they were of the five victims who had survived. A muggle or wizard man had actually managed to take the wand of a death eater and thrown it into the ocean. The death eater just ran away.  
  
Lucius was livid. He waved his sword around.  
  
Who dares this?! And then he shouted to his the other death eaters. Kill them, you fools! We still have a chance! And then he bellowed again, _Finite incantum!  
  
_With that, all of Draco's hexes ended.  
  
Harry watched, his heart beating wildly as three death eaters drew daggers and held them to necks of two children and one middle aged witch.  
  
******************  
  
Draco's voice trembled but he spoke fast, a bit hysterical, with his fists clenched.  
  
I tried! I tried! I tried to stop them but then the death eaters started killing them all! I didn't know what to do! And I couldn't! I couldn't stop them! I tried but I couldn't! I ran forward and avadad one! It was Mr. Lestrange and... and then a few death eaters just disapperated away. Crabbe and Goyle's fathers, I think. And then they caught me and took my wand! I tried! But I couldn't stop them!  
  
******************  
  
  
  
Harry heard Malfoy's shout and looked to see the blonde boy run out from behind the bush and toward the fray. For one dread moment, Harry could not believe that Draco would really live through this and wondered if the Draco at Hogwarts was really an impostor. Draco pointed his wand at a death eater who was about to slit the throat of a boy his age.  
  
_Avada kedavra_! Draco shouted.  
  
Harry felt nauseous watching the green light shoot out of Draco's wand and hit the death eater right in the heart. The teenage boy, a muggle, sprung to his feet and grabbed a small child to make a run for it, only to be swung at by the dagger of a death eater. Instead, the child was hit. Harry looked away and wondered what happened when a person vomited inside a pensieve. Ron was standing across from Harry, feeling equally nauseous as a death eater did away with another muggle. And then he watched as Draco was grabbed by the arm, his wand wrenched away and thrown to a far tree. Ron realized that he would not be killed yet, because the death eaters didn't yet know if Lucius Malfoy was willing to have his own son murdered. They did, however, crucio him and Draco seized up in pain. He was held by two death eaters who dragged him to his father as the few remaining death eaters attempted to deal with whatever survivors were left. They held Draco with his arms behind his back, forcing him to a kneeling position in front of his father. Lucius stood, robes billowing, the stone in one hand and his sword in the other. The stone, Ron and Harry noticed, was now glowing with orange light.  
  
WHY MUST YOU DEFY ME?! Lucius thundered. Why now when this could be our proudest moment?!  
  
Ron stepped up next to Harry. How the bloody hell did he get out of this? He said in a sick voice.  
  
You're a coward! You'd moan and groan and say you wanted out of the circle! That's why you ran from the mark and then you went running back to him! COWARD!  
  
Harry put his hands to his head in frustration. Good Lord! Where's Dumbledore?!  
  
Foolish boy! You know very well what all this has been for! What you have been _raised_ to be!  
  
****************  
  
They killed the children! And then they had me before my father! And I knew I had to get the Flame away from him but I just shouted at him and I knew I was going to die and the plague would be released! And I told him! I told him I wouldn't join Voldemort and he said it was my destiny! I had to do it! Draco had his hands on Hermione's shoulders, was actually holding her very tightly and half forgetting where he was and Hermione could only cry. I had to do it! Do you see?! I had too!  
  
****************  
  
You kill children! Draco was screamed. That girl in the dungeon, she was pleading for her life! How can you say she has no soul when she pled for her life?!  
  
Harry had turned just in time to see several black specks in the sky just coming up from the horizon. Ron kept having to remind himself that this was only a memory and that if he ran forward and tackled Lucius, it wouldn't matter.  
  
Harry said.   
  
Ron turned to look quickly and then they both turned back to watch Draco and Lucius.  
  
You know what it is to be a death eater, Draco! To serve our Lord! It is your destiny! You cannot turn from it! And if you do, you will only fall with the rest of them. I will kill you if you get in my way! Which you appear to be doing right now!  
  
Ron hissed, his heart in his shoes.  
  
Lucius was pointing his sword at his son.  
  
This was supposed to be over... Draco said.  
  
No, my boy. It is just the beginning. Lucius said.  
  
Ron grabbed Harry's arm, suddenly feeling the need to clench something as the death eaters looked up to see Dumbledore and the other aurors approaching.  
  
They both saw Lucius stare at the stone, now glowing a bright white light and Harry knew what was coming.  
  
Harry shouted.  
  
***************  
He was going to kill me! And I did it! I grabbed the sword! And then it was like lightening went through me and I got the stone out of his hands! And I didn't think about it! It just happened! But I did it!  
  
***************  
  
_Avada ked-_  
  
Ron shouted.  
  
And then it didn't matter because Draco had lurched forward and grabbed the sword with his bare hands.   
  
Ron and Harry gasped.  
  
Bloody hell, Harry whispered.  
  
Lucius was momentarily shocked but trying to hold on and focus on the stone at the same time. And then Draco sort of seized up for a moment, as if he was being electrocuted. He wrenched the sword out of Lucius' hand and threw off the death eaters holding him. Harry was transfixed as Draco flipped the sword, deftly catching it's proper end, with his _cut up_ hand to boot, and knocked the stone right out of Lucius' grasp.  
  
Lucius shouted,   
  
And then Draco ran the sword right through Lucius' chest and Harry and Ron both felt ill as from the side they saw the tip of it come out of his back.  
  
You can't escape it, boy, Lucius wheezed.  
  
They watched the wild eyed Draco Malfoy give the sword a final push and hiss menacingly at his father, Avada kedavra, you bloody bastard.  
  
Ron whispered.  
  
Draco pulled the sword roughly from out of his father who had fallen backward and now lay lifelessly on the ground. On the outer edge of the circle, Dumbledore and the others had touched down. Draco threw the sword as hard as he could into the sea and they saw him looking around, panting. He looked down at the stone on the ground next to his dead father and then up and Harry followed his gaze to see Lupin now running towards Draco.  
  
Who gets the stone? Harry thought aloud.   
  
said Ron, I told you what he was thinking yesterday. He thinks the dark lord's going to get it back. Dumbledore couldn't have it!  
  
Harry had indeed forgotten Ron's comment on the stone and it was true that if the ministry hadn't allowed it to be reported, then something very bad had happened. Yet he couldn't stop himself from muttering at Draco, Get the stone, Malfoy! Get the stone!  
  
But Draco did not get the stone. Instead he ran to one of the Firebolts the aurors had arrived on and mounted it, flying off into the sky.   
  
***************  
  
I killed him, Hermione! Draco shouted. I killed him! I killed my father!  
  
Their hands were on each other's shoulders, their teary eyes locked in an intense stare.  
  
Hermione cried.   
  
For the first time in a while Draco quieted and Hermione whispered,Draco, it's okay. I know why you did it! I _know_ you had to do it!  
  
She leaned forward and grasped him in a tight embrace.   
  
I could've taken the stone, he said. I didn't! Why didn't I? I could've taken it away from them! But I ran! I thought they would kill me!  
  
Hermione squeezed him harder and held the back of his head in her hand. It's okay, she kept whispering. It'll be alright! I _know _ it will! I've dreamt it!  
  
Draco sighed, letting out a breath he'd been holding for around an hour and shut his eyes. His face was nuzzled into Hermione's hair and he held her tight as if she was a life saver. Which, Draco supposed, she actually was.  
  
***************  
  
Harry and Ron sat on Draco's bed, blinking and trying to catch their breath.  
  
Ron said.  
  
My thoughts exactly, said Harry.  
  
Now we know how it happened, Ron said. But we've got to know what's happened to that stone! And Draco didn't stay long enough to find out.  
  
They were both a little frustrated. It was like reading the end of a good book and wanting _very_ badly to read the sequel(!).  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. he said. But we don't even know what the stone _is._  
  
If it has anything to do with that girl, Ron said logically, and she was dying of something dreadful, then maybe it makes people sick.  
  
Harry nodded as it seemed to make sense. What we need is someone else who was there. They would know what it is, and maybe what happened to it.  
  
Ron snorted. We need another pensieve.  
  
They're eyes lit up as they turned to each other and said in unison,   
  
******************************************************************  
  
Draco had quieted down and was leaning against the window pane.   
  
So I don't know what happened to the Frozen Flame, he said. But I know the ministry doesn't have it. Neither does Dumbledore.  
  
Hermione looked at his far away eyes. Draco, you did the right thing. You _did_ stop them. My parents would probably be dead right now, if it wasn't for you.  
  
But eight innocent people died, Draco said. Some of them people I used to think didn't even have souls.  
  
But your different now, Hermione said. You saved millions. Countless millions. You're _brave_. And you're _good._  
  
You don't _understand_, he said, sighing. It's just that...  
  
Hermione prodded.  
  
Draco swallowed. Tom Riddle killed his father. And Crouch junior killed his father. And I... His voice trailed off. It's practically a grand tradition, he said.  
  
Hermione almost smiled. To her, it seemed like such a silly thing to worry about. But Draco seemed all wrapped up in this idea of destiny.  
  
She said softly. Hermione turned his head toward hers and held his cheek with her right hand. You're _not_ _them_. Not even close. Different bloody universe.  
  
Do you believe in destiny? Draco whispered.  
  
I believe in... both, she answered. Fiornus, the wizard philosopher, he said that every wizard had two destinies, a dark and a light. But one day he chooses between the two and the other is left behind. You've chosen, Draco. You stood up to evil. You've found your redemption now.  
  
Draco reached up and took her hand in his.   
  
What do you dream, when you dream of me? he asked.  
  
Hermione smiled shyly. I dream you're flying, she said. Not on a broom and not falling. Just flying. And you're happy.  
  
He could love her, he realized. This beautiful girl who had just heard all his darkest secrets and could still look him in the eyes and say he was _good. _Who dreamt that he could fly. Maybe, he thought, he already did love her. He didn't know. What was love anyway? He felt like he had no idea. Had he ever loved anyone before? And his breath caught because for a moment he almost said it. The words had risen up in his throat. He had almost said he loved her.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Harry was gripping the Maurader's Map so tightly, that he very nearly ripped it in two.  
  
he shouted. He's in Hagrid's Hut! Let's go!  
  
Harry stuffed the map into his cloak and the two dashed out of Gryffindor Tower and to the statue guarding the passage to the headmaster's office.  
  
Lemon drop! Harry shouted, Chocolate frog! Bertie Bott's!  
  
Droobles! Whizbees! Ron shouted. Canary cream!  
  
At that the passage opened and Harry and Ron glanced at each other in surprise and then trampled up the stairs to office. Harry muttered hello at Fawkes who squawked in response. Harry opened the doors of the cabinet and peered into the pensieve.  
  
This is going to take some prodding, Harry said, feeling frustrated. Dumbledore's got a lot of memories in there.  
  
Harry poked and prodded in the basin, looking for something resembling Grier's Mountain. Meanwhile, Ron kept his eyes on the Marauder's Map but after another ten minutes Dumbledore was still in Hagrid's Hut, as was McGonagall.  
  
There! I've got it! Harry shouted.   
  
Ron leaned over the basin to see Dumbledore nearing the cliffs on his broom and the two touched their fingers to the mist. The walls swirled and they adjusted quickly. They were standing on the edge of the cliffs now, opposite from where they'd stood in Draco's memory. They saw Dumbledore and the aurors touching down quickly on their Firebolts as muggles, wizards and death eaters battled, while down near the front of the circle, Draco was pulling the sword from his father's chest.  
  
Dumbledore bellowed, Help Draco!  
  
They watched their old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher run toward Draco who, once again, threw the sword into the sea, saw Lupin and started to run.  
  
Lupin shouted.  
  
Lupin was looking for a broom to give chase with but Draco was fast on the Firebolt and soon just a dot in the sky. Meanwhile Dumbledore seemed to have disabled two death eaters and was constructing a magical shield around two wizards and a muggle woman.  
  
Harry was sure Lupin would see the stone lying near Lucius, but he didn't because a death eater knocked him from behind and he turned around to fight, drawing his wand.  
  
What happens to the stone?! Ron shouted.  
  
And then on the very edge of the cliff a figure appeared from about three feet above the ground. Ron saw it too and thought it looked like a person had stepped out of an invisibility cloak while jumping up and down.  
  
Who's that? Harry yipped above the din. Did he apperate?  
  
Ron shrugged. I don't know! I've never seen anyone apperate like that before!   
  
It was a person much shorter then any of the death eaters or aurors and wearing a black cloak. They could not see a face, so low was the hood pulled over the person's head. No one had seemed to notice the, as everyone was engulfed in the fight. The person stopped for a moment and looked around with his hooded head. They watched him (or her, for all they knew) run to Lucius and point a wand at the stone.  
  
Ron and Harry stepped closer and saw the stone began to crack and then split in two. The cloaked figure reached out and grabbed a piece of the stone in each hand. Now they Dumbledore turn from a battle with a death eater to see the mysterious intruder just as stone stealer seemingly threw one half of the stone over the side of the cliff. The person turned around and Dumbledore seemed to see under the hood, an expression crossing his face that Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen on the headmaster; surprise. Astonishment, in fact. But the stone did not go over the cliff, but vanished into thin air. And then another hooded death eater appeared suddenly behind the figure and grabbed the stone out of the person's other hand, disapperating immediately. The figure whipped around and then just ask quickly turned and ran, leaping over the cliff and following the path of the stone's other half. Like the stone, he didn't fall over the cliff but simply disappeared.  
  
That wasn't a disapperation! Ron protested. That was an invisible door or something!  
  
Harry was frustrated. I didn't even see his face!  
  
Dumbledore and the aurors had managed to divide the survivors and the remaining two death eaters, now disabled. And then reporters from _The Daily Prophet_ showed up.  
  
Harry said finally, there's nothing more to see.  
  
************************************************************  
  
Draco and Hermione sat talking for another two hours, sitting there on the window seat. They talked about everything and nothing from Draco's days with the muggles to the mission statement of S.P.E.W. Draco, Hermione decided, was sarcastic and dangerous and as intelligent as he was unpredictable and abruptly charming and pessimistic and dark and cutting and subtle and outside of the intelligence quotient, about as unlike Harry as it was possible to be. But he was also brave and daring, which were very Harry-like qualities.  
  
He was also staring at her, not just to look her in the eyes when she spoke but he seemed to be taking all her in. And when she looked away, he was still staring. He never seemed to take his eyes off of her and she felt she would be swallowed by those gray storms.  
  
I didn't have my wand with me, he was saying. But I did alright. I chased port keys but mostly I stayed in the muggle world, drifting around.  
  
The practicalities of Draco's adventures in muggle land were somewhat of a sensitive subject. Fed the best of magical delicacies from birth and raised in the one of the most ostentatiously lavish mansions in the wizarding world, Draco had been in for a shock when he thrust himself into the coarse and difficult muggle world _and_ without the benefit of his wand. He couldn't count the times he had regretted not running back for it. His pride never did give in and never once did Draco actually beg for food. He'd gone for days without it but he did manage to discover the art of what muggles called the dine and ditch. During a brief stint in Toronto, he'd managed to finagle something called a Mocha Frappucinno from a barista using nothing but good looks and puppy dog eyes. But in Cairo, he'd fallen apart. He'd started getting flashbacks he could not control and nightmares until he stopped sleeping for so long that he started to go mad. The ministry investigators had discovered him on the crash down from sleep deprivation.  
  
How do you chase port keys? Hermione asked. She was looking down at his hands, trying not to blush deeply because he was still staring only at her.  
  
When I flew away I went to a key I already knew about near home. That took me to Vienna and then I just looked around for wizards in groups or strange objects in unusual places. A boot on the sidewalk or an old doll on a rock. Toronto, Paris, Amsterdam... I stumbled into London but I knew I couldn't stay there long so I found a key to Bath and from there Edinborough and then Cairo.  
  
But Draco, Hermione said, _why_ did you run?  
  
Draco rolled his eyes and squirmed. Because... Because I just wanted to be away.  
  
Hermione reached out for his hand. Well, I'm glad you came back.  
  
Are you? he asked rhetorically.  
  
Hermione marveled. Draco could manage to sound sarcastic, seductive and sincere all in the same two word sentence. She wanted to tell him what she was feeling but she didn't know how.  
  
_I'm pulled to you and I don't know why...  
  
Something about you brings me closer...  
  
_Draco was playing with her hands, running his thumbs along her palms. Hermione felt all... fluttery.  
  
he said softly. She looked up and was a little startled. She hadn't realized they were sitting this close.  
  
  
  
Oh, sorry!  
  
The door had swung open and in the doorway stood a third year Hufflepuff who blushing more then Hermione.  
  
Draco barked.  
  
The Hufflepuff skidaddled and Hermione stood up and smoothed her robes. Draco grimaced and created several interesting and terrible names for the invader.  
  
We've missed dinner, Hermione said matter of factly. If we rush we can pick something up before detention.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Harry and Ron returned to Gryffindor where Ginny was waiting by the fire with a fresh batch of numbing solution for Harry. They worked on their assignments for a while and then went to dinner and wondered where Draco and Hermione were. Ron, who eventually remembered that he had the map in his pocket, reported that they were in the library. They meandered back to the Tower before detention, just missing Draco and Hermione who had gone to kitchen to ask the house elves for a snack and missing them again when they left the Tower to go to Hagrid's Hut.  
  
Hermione had said she wanted to change clothes before detention and Draco thought he might as well too. She threw on a white t-shirt, jeans and a corduroy jacket and waiting in the common room, her knees wobbling when Draco appeared on the stairs. He was wearing those Dockers again, in black this time and a clingy black v-neck sweater. Draco ran a hand through his hair and Hermione cleared her throat.  
  
Let's go, she said. We're already late.  
  
They walked quickly down the corridors and outside to the Hut, stealing surreptitious glances at each other all the way. Finally, Hermione had to ask.  
  
Why do you wear black so much?  
  
Draco shot her a quintessentially Draco smile. Drives the girls crazy, he said.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes but inside thought, _Yes, yes it does._  
  
At the door to Hagrid's Hut they found Harry and Ron. When Draco wasn't looking Harry kept shooting her meaningful looks and mouthing we need to talk. Hermione nodded but didn't think much of it. Whatever Harry and Ron had discovered, it couldn't possibly be as momentous as what _she_ now knew about Draco. Draco was squirming. Weasley kept looking at him with something he'd never seen from him before. It looked a bit like... respect.  
  
Do you have something to say, Weasley? Draco finally demanded.  
  
Ron shook his head quickly. No. Um... No.  
  
The awkward moment ended when Hagrid came out of his Hut, nodding hellos.  
  
'Ermione, Ron, Arry. Good ter see you back, Draco.  
  
Draco shifted on his feet and grunted in response. Hermione stifled a chuckle.  
  
We'll be going to the forest tonight... Hagrid said.  
  
Draco gave Hermione a triumphant look as if to say I told you so.  
  
Harry sighed. Well, this is all too familiar, he muttered.  
  
Got to pick up somethin' from the paddocks first, Hagrid said.  
  
Harry and Ron caught up with Hermione on the way to paddocks as Draco slunk far behind.  
  
You won't believe what we found out! Ron hissed.  
  
Hermione was wary herself. Draco had told her everything in confidence and she wasn't about to speak of it.   
  
she whispered.  
  
They had agreed that it was okay to tell Hermione. That she should know because she was spending so much time with him and because what happened wasn't over yet.  
  
About Draco's father, Harry whispered. Do you know?  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. What do _you_ know?  
  
It was Draco, Harry said, Harry mouthed killed him.  
  
Hermione nodded. she said, he told me.  
  
Do you know about the Frozen Flame? Ron asked.  
  
How do _you_ know about it? she asked. You read his mind, didn't you?  
  
Ron shrugged. Well, sort of. But we... Er...  
  
Ron glanced at Harry who looked sheepish. We snuck into his pensieve.  
  
Harry! Ron!  
  
Harry put his hands in defense. I wanted to find out why my scar was glowing! said Harry.  
  
Did you find out? she challenged.  
  
said Harry,   
  
Hermione huffed. You can't know what happened to the Flame, she muttered, because Draco doesn't know either.  
  
Well, actually... Harry started to say.  
  
Hermione groaned.   
  
We got inside Dumbledore's pensieve too. Ron said.  
  
Hermione gasped.  
  
Hey, he shouldn't make his passwords so easy, Ron pointed out.  
  
Alright! Here we are! Hagrid announced.  
  
We'll talk later! Harry said.  
  
They stepped up to the paddock fence and Draco finally caught up to them.  
  
Didn't want to interrupt your little conference, he grumbled.  
  
Bitsy boars! Ron said in surprise, looking down on a litter of young pink pig-like creatures with green spots and floppy ears. Hagrid, what're we doing with Bitsy Boars in the Forbidden Forest?  
  
Hagrid stepped into the paddock and attached collars and leashes to three Bitsy Boars who started laughing loudly.  
  
'Ave any of yeh ever had a Borgie truffle? Hagrid asked.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione shook their heads but Draco's mouth instantly watered. Borgie truffles were a delicacy in the wizarding world. They were tasted almost like a fruit fruit, darkly sweet, creamy and rich and when mixed with dark chocolate... Draco would eat Borgie truffles all day if he could. The roots were also utilized for aphrodisiacs. They were exceedingly rare and very expensive.   
  
Been thirty-two years since the last Hagrid said. So they're in season now. Hagrid stepped out of the paddock, holding the three leashes.  
  
Bitsy Boars have one particular specialty, other then laughin' and that's rooting out Borgie truffles, he said. Borgies are all over the forest, yeh just let the Bitsy's do the work.  
Since they sixth years now and clearly adept at handling themselves in the face of danger, Hagrid told them the four would split into two pairs and Hagrid would pick by himself. As Fang didn't get along to well with Bitsy Boars, he was not coming along but Hagrid took his quiver of arrows, just in case.  
  
Draco stood next to Hermione and crossed his arms.  
  
'Ermione, yeh can go with Ron and Harry'll go with Draco, Hagrid said.  
  
Draco glared at Hagrid, _I'm_ going with Hermione. It was the same voice he'd used when he'd tried to challenge Snape, Hermione noticed.  
  
Draco, why don't you go with Hermione, Hagrid said immediately.  
  
Harry and Ron frowned at each other and Hermione looked questioningly at Draco who just smirked knowingly. Hagrid handed Ron and Hermione leashes and baskets to Hermione and Harry. They trekked out to the entrance of the forest.  
  
Mind yeh don' go too far, Hagrid warned. I'll come and find yeh when yer time is up. If yer boar gets a bit cranky, best to scritch em' between the ears.  
  
Hagrid and the two pairs went their separate ways into the looming, dark forest, wands lit.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
Ron and Harry weren't far into the forest when their Bitsy Boar tugged on the leash, leading them to cluster of shrubs. The boar rooted out two truffles which Harry dutifully put into basket. The truffles didn't look very appetizing to either Harry or Ron, just a clump of roots and sliminess.  
  
said Ron, let's review. Lucius was a bastard, that we already knew, possibly possessed by Voldemort that night. Malfoy is now a good guy. The Frozen Flame, which may or may not make people sick, is now split in two and the death eaters've got one half. And the other half was thrown through an invisible door. Of course, he continued, we still don't know what Lucius intended to do that night, exactly what the Flame is and what the girl died of, who the stranger in the cloak is, where the invisible door leads, how Voldemort manage to occupy Lucius' body or why you're scar was glowing last night.  
  
Hermione'll know more, Harry said. Maybe if we just tell Malfoy we already know what happened, he'll talk to us.  
  
Yeah, Ron said, he'll love that we snuck into his room and invaded his pensieve.  
  
*************************************************************  
  
I haven't heard of Borgie truffles, said Hermione as they two made their way into the depth of the forest, but Hogwarts once had a Borgie Ball around thirty years ago.  
  
It was because of the truffles, said Draco. My parents took me to a Borgie Festival in Transylvania once. The Veelahs danced for nine days straight.  
  
I don't see what the big deal is, Hermione said as their boar rooted at the base of a tree. It' s just a truffle.  
  
Draco leered at her. You've never had one.  
  
Hermione couldn't help but think that she should tell Draco what the boys had done. He needed to be able to trust her so she didn't want to keep secrets from him. They walked on and then stopped again, at the mercy of the Bitsy Boar. Neither of them saw the thorny branches creeping out of the ground at Hermione's feet and growing in seconds into a large and angry bush. Draco was watching the Bitsy do it's work and Hermione was staring at her hands.  
  
she said softly, there's something you should-  
  
But she never finished her sentence because the large and angry bush sprouted two branches that reached out and grabbed Hermione by the jacket, yanking her into the shrub. Hermione screamed and Draco looked up. He dropped the leash and and ran to the bush where Hermione was thrashing around, trying to gain control of her wand and get out at the same time. Draco tried to fend off the aggressive plant, searching his mind for a spell that would make a plant stop attacking someone.  
  
Stop struggling! Draco shouted. He could see that the plant mostly had her by the jacket which was practically shredded. Hermione stopped moving but managed to grab her wand and Draco dove in, grabbed her with one arm around her waist and a hand around her head and pulled backwards. Thankfully, he was too strong for the plant which let go of Hermione and the two tumbled away from the plant and to the ground. Hermione sat up and pointed her wand at the plant.  
  
_Botanicus reducio_! The plant shrank to the size of a sprout and Hermione stuck her wand into the back pocket of her jeans and took a breath.   
  
Draco helped Hermione to her feet and took a good look at her. She had little scratches all on her arms and thorns stuck in her t-shirt.  
  
Are you alright? Draco asked. Hermione cast a healing spell on her arms and set to picking the thorns out of her clothes.  
  
she said, just stings. I'm not sure what that was. Must be related to the Whomping Willow though. It's a shame. I liked that jacket.  
  
Draco stood close and started picking nettles out of her mussed up hair.  
  
Be more careful, prefect. Draco said. Hermione looked up and saw that Draco's words belied the concern in his eyes.  
  
They were having a moment again.  
  
_I'm going to kiss her, _Draco thought. _I don't care anymore. If I don't kiss her, I'm going to catch on fire._  
  
Harry and Ron got into your pensieve, Hermione blurted.  
  
Draco's face darkened. They _what_?!  
  
They were wrong, I know, she said. But Harry's scar was glowing last night, it's been itchy! That could mean something! They just wanted to know what happened!  
  
And myhand is itchy, Draco said, snapping out of the moment, but I didn't go snooping through Potter's diary! Oh, I forgot, Potter is Potter so he can go sneaking around doing whatever he wants just in case he might save the world _again_!  
  
You've joined the Save the World Club too, ya know, Hermione pointed out with a tone of amusement.  
  
Draco turned away to find the Bitsy Boar which had been happily rooting up more Borgie truffles the entire time. He picked up the leash and Hermione found the basket and collected the truffles that had fallen out.  
  
So they know, Draco growled. Well, that's _grand_.  
  
Draco, they're on your side! Hermione assured him.  
  
Draco scowled. Brilliant. Because I _so_ desire Potter and Weasley's approval! I'll _murder_ them!  
  
They'll kill me for telling you first, Hermione sighed.  
  
Why _did _you tell me? he demanded.  
  
Because I don't want to lie to you, she said firmly.  
  
Draco was taken aback. Hermione continued to surprise him. She was so direct. It was a little jolting. So unSlytherin-like. So unMalfoy-like. He couldn't think of anything to say to that so he walked on, following the Bitsy Boars lead. He could hear the sound of water nearby and that was about the time he felt the ground fall out from under him.  
  
Hermione hollered. She'd knelt down to pick up two more truffles and stood to see Draco nowhere in sight.   
  
She was about to toss up sparks when she heard a splash and followed the sound around a corner to see a waterfall streaming into a pond. Another splash and then Draco appeared, standing up in the waist-high water, a squealing Bitsy Boar under his arm. He trudged toward her, wearing a deeply aggravated expression.  
  
What happened? Hermione shrieked.  
  
Draco pushed his soaking hair off his face. Oh, nothing. Just felt like a swim.  
  
The boar was squealing so Draco, remembering what Hagrid had said, started scratching it between the ears. The boar chuckled appreciatively and Draco set it on the ground as he climbed up out of the pond. It was a cool night and as Draco stepped out of the water and back onto flat dry ground, he realized he was freezing in his wet sweater.  
  
So he took it off.  
  
Hermione stumbled. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. Felt every drop of blood in her body rush to her head.  
  
_Drying spell... drying spell... I use it everyday! What is it??? Starts with a... C?_  
  
Hermione stepped backwards down the path, eyes wide and turned away from Draco, racking her brain. Draco caught up with her, ringing out his sweater. They were entering a clearing and the Bitsy Boar pulled out the leash from Draco's grip and started rooting out another cluster of truffles.  
  
Hermione swallowed. Why don't you cast a drying spell? she asked breathily.  
  
Draco caught on quickly and grinned. Why don't _you_? He stepped in front of her and crossed his arms.  
  
Hermione wouldn't look at him. I... Er...  
  
He was making her nervous. And, he realized, she was completely adorable when she was nervous. Her lips twitched and her gaze shifted around furtively, settling on his chest, away and back on his chest.  
  
So this, he thought, was what it was like to fall in love.  
  
I'm sorry for everything I ever did to you, he whispered.  
  
She smiled. I know you are.  
  
You can slap me again, if you like, he said playfully.  
  
Hermione winced at the memory. That's not necessary, she said. Um... We should collect the truffles.  
  
She was getting away again. But Draco wasn't about to let it happen this time. Not if there was any chance in hell that she could feel the same way he did.  
  
he said, taking her by the arm and letting his sweater fall to the ground. And now he didn't know what to say again. He had to stop doing that.  
  
I'm pulled towards you, she said suddenly. She had a habit of blurting, he supposed.  
  
Draco was elated, his arms were suddenly tingly and he stepped forward. You're pulled towards me...   
  
When McGonagall asked me to help you, she said huskily, I had to say yes. I don't know why. I think it's why I dream about you. It's like I was... meant to help you. I couldn't just leave you alone. That's why I came to the Tower. Even when we hated each other, maybe it was sort of like that. A pull that we didn't understand.  
  
Draco tried to process this and felt that his heart would beat right out of his very bare chest.  
  
Do you still hate me? he asked.  
  
Be serious, she said testily and pushed him lightly with the hand that wasn't holding a basket full of truffles.  
  
I am serious, he breathed as he pulled her forward and kissed her.   
  
Hermione dropped her basket as Draco's lips captured hers. His arms wrapped around her and his kiss deepened. Hermione whimpered into him and this time her knees really did go weak but he kept her up. When he pulled away, Hermione wasn't sure which way was up or down until she looked into his eyes and saw uncertainty.   
  
He was insecure, she realized. Draco Malfoy feared rejection. It made her want him more and it made her want assure him so this time she reached up to put her arms around his neck and kissed him again. He _did_ taste somewhat dangerous. How could a person taste dangerous? And dark and mysterious and strong and wonderful...  
  
She was raking her fingers through his wet hair and kneading his bare back.   
  
he whispered between kisses. I was so stupid... I was so stupid...  
  
She kissed his cheeks, his lips, his neck, his lips. What a contradiction she was, he thought. That someone so bookish and organized would kiss as if it were her last day on earth. Finally she leaned her forehead against his, and they stood there still breathing heavily.  
  
Draco set a strand of hair behind her ear. Let's have detention more often, he suggested.  
  
Hermione chuckled. There's always tutoring, she said innocently.  
  
Draco let out something that sounded like a contented growl. And then they heard another boar's laugh close by. They pulled away reluctantly.  
  
Hermione twittered, She remembered the drying spell and cast it quickly on Draco's clothes. Draco put his sweater back on and just in time as Harry and Ron appeared in the clearing.  
  
Ron saw Hermione and Draco standing next to each other and looking very uncomfortable. He noted the swelled lips, the mussed hair and the shifty eyes and felt all wistful again.  
  
_There went my last shot._  
  
Fancy meeting you here, he said wryly.  
  
Harry eyed the Draco's Bitsy Boar that was rolling around on his back, next to a pile of truffles.  
  
Your boar seems to be having a good time, Harry said.  
  
Hermione collected herself and _again_ collected all the truffles that had fallen out of the basket while Draco nabbed the leash of his easy going boar. Both of their baskets were full now so they decided to go find Hagrid. Harry and Ron walked ahead, chattering about quidditch and Hermione and Draco followed, again sneaking looks at each other although this time they weren't as clandestine. Hermione slipped her hand into his and he gripped it tightly.  
  
Then Ron tripped. He stumbled over some object sitting in the middle of the path and went tumbling forward and for the third time that night, a basket of truffles spilled all over the ground. Draco and Hermione stopped short and let go of each othere's hands.  
  
Ron yelped. What was that? He got to his feet and rubbed his elbow.  
  
Harry bent down and picked up what looked like a small brown ball off the forest floor.  
  
It's a cocoanut! Hermione said in surprise.  
  
Draco rose an eyebrow. What's a cocoanut?  
  
Harry smirked and held it up. _This_ is a cocoanut.  
  
Thank you, Potter, for that insightful information, Draco drawled, walking up next to him.  
  
A cocoanut is a fruit, Hermione explained. A muggle fruit. And it's not exactly native to this environment. Cocoanut trees only grow on tropical islands. And this is a temperate zone.  
  
Draco shrugged. Well, swallows fly south but they're from England.  
  
Harry gave him a look. Are you suggesting that cocoanuts migrate?  
  
Hermione broke out into hysterical laughter, receiving strange looks from all three boys.  
  
What's so funny? Ron asked.  
  
They could hear Hagrid plodding towards them and Hermione shook her head, giggling. Tell you later, she said.  
  
Hagrid appeared with his basket and his Bitsy Boar and Harry held up the cocoanut.  
  
he said, we found a cocoanut!  
  
Hagrid blinked,  
  
And then they heard the thundering. From far off, came something sounding like a stampede as if a very large and very fast creature were pounding down everything in it's way and, in fact, something very large _was_ making it's way to the five truffle pickers.  
  
What's that? Hermione gasped.  
  
They saw it, the shadow of a large beast on the approach and running at full speed. And from it came a loud trumpeting sound that made the hair on Harry's neck stand up.  
  
Get outter the way! Hagrid shouted.  
  
And then there it was, huge, gray and horned. It was an Erumpet and it was charging down the path straight towards them. A split second before the rest of them were about to run screaming, _it_ happened.   
  
It happened.  
  
Draco raised his right hand suddenly and Harry stared fiercely and out of Draco's scars and Harry's forehead shot two bolts of purple light which shot forward, joining into one bolt that blasted the Erumpet, blowing it about a fifty feet backwards until it slammed into a tree and slumped to the ground. The bolts disappeared and Draco lowered his hand.  
  
Silence.  
  
Everyone stared at Harry and Draco who were gaping at each other in utter disbelief.  
  
Now what?! the two said in unison.  
  
Ron ran his tongue along the inside of his gum, raising his eyebrows.  
  
Guess we know why your scar was itchy, he said simply.   
  
Hagrid cleared his throat. Right then, he said. Dumbledore'll be wantin' ter see yeh. All of yeh, I expect.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and looked at the Erumpet lying, possibly dead or possibly unconscious at the foot of the tree.  
  
_And the hits keep on coming._..   
  
  
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A/N: Like it? Tell me about it! Yaaay. :0D  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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	7. The Gryff Six

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin  
  
  
Chapter 6: The Gryff Six  
  
Remembrall**: Draco and Harry can shoot highly powered bolts of light out of their respective magical scars. (Draco's scars are on his right hand from when he grabbed Lucius' sword/wand just before he killed him.) The Frozen Flame is a muggle-kiling plague. Hermione has prophetic dreams. Harry loves Ginny. Draco loves Hermione. And Ron is lonely (except for the voices in his head). **  
  
Chapter 6: The Gryff Six  
  
**Four very dazed Gryffindors turned in their boars at the paddocks and waited outside of Hagrid's door while the groundskeeper talked quickly to Dumbledore on the fire. They were all silent. So many odd shocks in one day had them speechless. Harry and Draco, in particular, were quiet but wide eyed and walking much faster then everyone else, panting and looking a little... high. Outside Hagrid's door, Draco was pacing, walking forward to look at the forest then just as soon turning around and peaking into Hagrid's window and back again. Harry meanwhile was absent mindedly rubbing his wand between his hands, as if gearing up for a fight. Hermione and Ron just watched them, exchanging looks of interest. Finally Hagrid came out, smiling as if everything was perfectly normal.  
  
he said. Thank you for your good work tonight, the boars really seemed to take to you. Yeh can turn your truffles in at the kitchens and Dumbledore'd like yeh to collect Ginny Weasley and meet em' in MacGonagall's classroom.  
  
Ron was confused. What's my sister got to do with this?  
  
I don't rightly know, Hagrid said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. But I wouldn't dawdle. See yeh in class on Monday!  
  
The Gryffindors were left confused as Hagrid went back inside his hut, mumbling to himself about Erumpets and shut the door.   
  
Hermione took a deep breath, still holding the basket full of truffles and spun on her heel. The boys followed her and no one spoke all the way to the kitchens, each lost in thought, excepting Ron who was lost in the thoughts of four introspective Australians. Halfway between the kitchens and Gryffindor Tower, Hermione broke the silence.  
  
Did you notice anything strange back in the forest? she said earnestly.  
  
The boys stopped short in the hall, jaws on the floor at Hermione's question. They looked at her as if she'd just called the dark lord a peachy kid and a keen dancer.  
  
Ron squinted, as if unsure it was really Hermione in front of him. Are you joking?  
  
Hermione huffed and turned around to face the three boys, suddenly very much united in disbelief at her train of thought. I meant, she said, _aside _from Harry and Draco shooting beams of light from their scars with enough force to take down twenty men.  
  
Ron said nodding,_aside_ from that.  
  
Hermione threw her arms in the air. The Erumpet! she shouted. Nothing about an Erumpet in the Forbidden Forest strikes any of you as odd?  
  
It was distracting enough that the Erumpet was about to strike us period, Harry quipped.  
  
Hermione exploded. Erumpets are from Africa! Don't you guys _ever_ pay attention in Hagrid's classes?!  
  
Usually I'm too busy gushing blood, Draco said happily.  
  
Hermione said, as if explaining the big people potty to a child, Erumpets are native to Africa. It's like the cocoanut. It's got no business being in some dark forest in England, even at Hogwarts. An Erumpet should be wandering the savannah. How did it get _here_?  
  
Draco was getting impatient. I think that's obvious enough, he said. Your Hagrid probably had one as a pet, got bored with it and foolishly let it free in the Forbidden Forest.  
  
Hermione liked Draco a lot, but she was getting a little peeved at his belittlement of Hagrid. Apparently, it was something that dealing with dark forces had _not_ flushed out of him.  
  
First, stop talking about him like that, Hermione warned. And second, Hagrid would _not_ be that foolish.  
  
Why? Because he's so very concerned for our safety? Draco snapped, rather upset and very wound up over what had transpired in the forest.  
  
Actually, _no_, Hermione replied. Because he's so concerned for the safety of magical creatures. And an Erumpet would certainly _not_ thrive in that sort of climate and would pose an immense danger to the other creatures that live there, like Centaurs.  
  
Draco seemed to catch on to something and his eyes lit up with realization. He stepped closer to Hermione. Are you telling me... he started to say, suddenly whipping his head around to face Harry and Ron. That this girl talks like a tenured professor even when she's _not_ tutoring or in class?  
  
Harry and Ron seemed to be attempting not to laugh and Hermione sighed and rubbed her temples. They had found it, she realized. Something that would start to bring together the former Slytherin and his former enemies; annoyance at her determinedly academic manner. It was enough to cause to Draco to momentarily forget that he was still mad at Ron and Harry for sneaking into his pensieve.  
  
Hermione clenched her jaw and stared down Draco. You didn't seem to mind our tutoring sessions before, she pointed out. I'm just saying it deserves some looking into.  
  
Ron shouted. We've got a list of about fifty things that deserve some looking into! Escapee zoo animals and tropical muggle fruits are _not_ priorities!  
  
Harry, starting to feel himself winding down from the Erumpent incident, suddenly wanted nothing more to see his girlfriend and walked past Hermione toward the Tower.  
  
Let's just get Ginny, he mumbled, though still amused. Dumbledore is waiting.  
  
Hermione turned around and the four strode through the corridors, trying to ignore Peeves who was imitating Draco's drunken version of Unchained Melody while popping in and out of the hall paintings. Hermione glared at the portrait of a distracted Pink lady who was still indignantly smoothing down her dress, having fought off the impertinent ghost's advances.  
  
The Pink Lady eyed Hermione grumpily. she shrilled.  
  
Hermione smirked and said, Hello, nasty.  
  
The Pink Lady scowled and reluctantly opened the door. I'm not sure I like that password, you know.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and the four harried truffle pickers traipsed into the common room.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Ginny Weasley held up a vile of something blue and foamy to the light of the common room fire and squinted.  
  
More Lirby root, she said to herself. A shade more Lirby.  
  
Things had clicked for Ginny near the end of her fourth year when Snape had assigned a particularly viscous assignment that had her pouring over massive tomes in the library, some from the restricted section, to discover the origins of particularly powerful potions. Already the head student in Snape's fourth year class, reading over the processes of creating a potion through the personal diaries of infamous wizards and witches had unlocked an entire world for Ginny. Suddenly she understood potions in ways the students around her did not. What she did not know was that Snape had been eyeing her progress and based upon a hunch, created the assignment specifically for her, though he dealt it to the other seventeen long suffering students in her class as well.  
  
His hunch had turned out to be well founded. Ginny, though she wasn't quite aware of it yet, was a prodigy in the arena of potions and herbology where it applied. And Snape, though he didn't show it, was completely blown away by her brilliance. Thus, Ginny would be moving up to sixth year potions with her friends and was often to be found down in Snape's dungeons given free reign to experiment. Ginny was the student Snape had waited for for years, that made not being allowed to teach DADA worth it (to some extent) and even surpassed his long standing tradition of anti-Gryffindor/pro-Sytherin sentiment. But Ginny wasn't in it for glory or achievement, she simply loved devising small improvements for old potions, coming up with new uses for forgotten ingredients and generally solving small problems with this interesting form of magic. She had even managed to devise her own inventions.  
  
Ginny's only complication was staying on top of her other classes while remaining so wrapped up in potions. At the moment she was working on her most complex project yet. All of it for fun, of course. It was a three part potion and she was working on improving the result and perhaps simplifying the process. She couldn't very well brew such an important potion in the middle of the common room, but having completed her other homework and awaiting her boyfriend from detention, she was inspecting her completed third step and taking notes and devising new ideas while studying the references of the potion's inventor.  
  
A shade more Lirby...  
  
Ginny expected to kiss Harry hello when he returned and apologize for being mysteriously absent for the entire day. She certainly did not expect them all to arrive looking so... jumpy. And even less did she expect them to tell her that Dumbledore wanted her in on some kind of conference. And yet there they were.   
  
When the entered the common room, Ginny looked up grinning and said,So how was deten- she broke off when she saw their faces.   
  
Dumbledore wants to meet with us, Harry declared. Right now. And he wants you there too.  
  
Ginny stood up, frowning and smoothing down her robes. Me? Why? Does this have something to do with your scar itching?  
  
Ooooh yeah, Ron crowed.  
  
Harry spent the walk to McGonagall's classroom explaining the strange incident in the forest to Ginny. Ginny listened and stared ahead and couldn't help noticing that Draco and Hermione were walking close together ahead of them and that Draco was whispering very close to her ear and shooting her very particular smirks that made Hermione blush. Behind them, Ron trudged and grumbled to himself.   
  
Ginny was confused. Wait a minute, she said, standing still in the middle of the hallway. Draco doesn't have any magical scars... Does he?  
  
Harry mentally kicked himself, forgetting that Ginny didn't know about Draco's hand or what had happened on Grier's Mountain. Meanwhile, Draco set his jaw. Everyone knew now. Well, everyone except this Weasley girl and if he did bring it out into the open he could at least tell off Potter and Weasley which would feel very good. Draco stopped short and turned to face Ginny, holding up his right hand.  
  
Ron yelped. Careful with that thing!  
  
Draco ignored Ron and glared at Ginny. Yes, he does, he answered for her.  
  
Lord, where did those come from? Is that why you went missing? Ginny asked.  
  
Why don't you tell her, Potter? Draco demanded. Or you Weasley? Bloody hell, why don't you take her down into my pensieve too. Take the rest of Gryffindor. It's the hottest spot in town.  
  
Harry grit his teeth and glared at Hermione as Ron did the same. Hermione shrugged and looked away.  
  
Harry said, we had too. You want to hex me for it? Harry put up his hands away from his wand and stood expectant. I won't hex you back. Go ahead.  
  
Draco's eyes lit up at the thought and he drew his wand. He started to say something and then frowned like a child.  
  
It's not nearly as fun if you _let_ me, he said petulantly.   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged looks of relieved surprise and walked ahead of Draco with Ginny, a bit flummoxed.  
  
Ron said. Let's just get there already. Dumbledore's expecting us.  
  
_Tarentellegras dubio_!  
  
Draco smirked his very best smirk as Ron and Harry swiveled around with arms crossed, faces deadpan but annoyed, and legs very enthusiastically dancing a wild jig that seemed to defy all laws of bone structure.  
  
Draco shrugged. I lied. It's quite fun actually.   
  
Ginny couldn't help but laugh at the activities of Harry and Ron's legs but as they would soon be on the late side of Dumbledore's meeting, Hermione drew her wand.  
  
_Finite incantatum_, she said sighing. Draco, really.  
  
Draco looked affronted. He _asked_ me too!  
  
Harry and Ron stomped on the ground to get the feeling back in the legs and grumbled to themselves. Draco and Hermione walked ahead and Harry came last, pulling Ginny aside to attempt to tell her in hushed whispers, what had happened to Draco as far as he knew it. Hermione couldn't help but be somewhat amused by Draco's antics. So this, she thought, was apparently the real Draco. It was going to be interesting...  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
They walked into McGonagall's classroom to find five comfy looking red velvet chairs waiting for them in place of desks which faced a table and one larger blue chair in which sat Dumbledore who held a mug in both hands.  
  
Ah! And here we are, Dumbledore said happily. He gestured to five mugs which sat on the table, smelling delightfully of hot chocolate and a plate of tasty looking biscuits. You all must be very tired from your work in the forest and your study respectively. Please enjoy some refreshment.   
  
The Gryffindors haplessly took their seats and reached immediately for the hot chocolate. For his part, Draco had become used to Dumbledore's singular manner as a headmaster, how he acted the all knowing patronizing eccentric but wise wizard while allowing his favorite students to fall into the most life endangering of trouble. Draco had realized after one of Dumbledore's visits to the mansion, that Dumbledore really did have some sense of foresight, or maybe it was just a strong _feeling_ that he had about certain students and situations.   
  
said Dumbledore, when they had all gotten comfortable with their hot chocolate and Ron was on his third biscuit, I have been meaning to sit down with you all as I think there are some concerns you would like to share with me. And after what has transpired during your detention in the forest, this seems to be the perfect time.  
  
Harry spoke up, are you saying you know what the purple light coming out of us was?  
  
Dumbledore said, stroking his long beard and eyeing Draco with a question, at least I have an idea...  
  
Draco glared at Harry and growled, They all _know _ now. So you can speak freely.  
  
Very well, Dumbledore said. But first, why don't you two explain in your own words what happened in the forest. Harry, would you like to start?  
  
Draco didn't look talkative so Harry squirmed a bit and started to speak. Well, er... We were all about to go back to the paddocks and we heard a sort of thundering and then this Erumpet came charging toward us and Hagrid told us to get out of the way and I was just about to run but then... er... Harry blushed and frowned into his hot chocolate.  
  
But then? Dumbledore prodded.  
  
I felt this surge of energy, in my blood like, Harry said. It was all coming toward my forehead. And I just... knew what to do somehow. I can't explain it. So I looked straight at the Erumpet and it felt sort of like I'd eaten a whole bag of Sugar Bats on an empty stomach. Then suddenly there was this purple light coming out of my forehead and out of Malfoy's hand and then they joined into one big beam of light and blew the Erumpet into a tree.  
  
Dumbledore looked to Draco and asked, Do you concur with that description?  
  
Draco admitted. It did feel like a big rush and then I just felt myself raising my hand up. It was like... Draco grasped for words.  
  
he and Harry said at the same time. They looked at each other funny and turned back to Dumbledore who took another sip of hot chocolate and began to speak slowly.  
  
It is very intriguing, he said. Not unheard of but certainly extraordinary. I believe, because of the similarity in your injuries, both of which came out of surviving an attempted avada kedavra curse, you now contain certain magical temperaments which are... reacting to each other. It would take ages to completely explain the basis for it, but it would all have to do with the situation surrounding each curse, the wands used, your personalities, even family history. It is possible, Harry, that your scar always contained this power and only now had discovered the key to unlock it.  
  
Draco looked more taken aback then Harry at that statement.  
  
said Ron, trying to catch on, you're saying that they could do what they did to the Erumpet _again_?  
  
said Dumbledore. This is a new magical sense that Harry and Draco have acquired. And with training, they can learn to utilize and control it. But, of course, it's a dependent form of magic.  
  
Draco piped up. What do you mean?  
  
I mean, said Dumbledore, that it relies on it's other, that you cannot operate it apart.  
  
Harry blurted, you mean I have this new magical power but I can only use it when I'm around Malfoy?  
  
Dumbledore said, seemingly delighted.  
  
Well, _obviously_, Draco said haughtily, even though he'd just begun to understand it himself. And don't think I'm too crazy about it either, Potter.  
  
I have been told your scar has been itching lately, Harry. Is this true? Dumbledore asked.  
  
Harry looked a bit sheepish. Yes, very itchy. Though Ginny made me some numbing solution to ease it, he said, beaming at his girlfriend, who blushed. And then the other night it was itching particularly _and _ it was glowing according to Hermione.  
  
Dumbledore said in surprise. Very interesting. And Draco?  
  
Draco nodded. My hand was itchy but I was taking pain potion because the scars were sore.  
  
You were seeking each other out, Dumbledore explained. And the closer you got to each other, I expect the itchier you became. Your powers sought release and now that they have discovered it, I think the itching will subside.  
  
Is this like wandless magic? Harry asked hopefully. Can we perform spells with it?  
  
Dumbledore tilted his head and smiled. Usually, from what I have read that is, such powers are more generalized. But why don't we attempt some experiments, hmm?  
  
A few minutes later, they had shoved the chairs and tables to one end of the room except for one chair which sat in the middle. Ron, Ginny and Hermione stood among the crowded furniture and watched Harry and Draco expectantly who seemed awkward and uncertain.  
  
Dumbledore told them. Relax and try to focus on that rush of feeling you both spoke of, then target it toward the chair.  
  
They nodded and faced the other end of the room, Draco raising his hand and aiming it at the chair. They were silent as Harry stared at the chair and Draco's fingers were spread wide with what looked like effort. For two minutes they just stood there and were about to give up until Draco's eyes lit up and his hand shook a little and Harry said, A split second later the bolts of light shot forward straight at the chair and smashed it against the wall where it split into several pieces.  
  
Harry cried.  
  
Bloody excellent! Draco agreed.  
  
Ron just looked awed.   
  
It was that euphoria again, Hermione noticed. Draco and Harry were wide eyed and flushed and she suspected it was some sort of side effect.  
  
Can we do it again?! Harry pleaded.  
  
Of course, Dumbledore said, chuckling a little and casting a _reparo_ on the chair.   
  
Only, this time try to control the sensation. Look for other possibilities, if you get my meaning.  
  
Harry and Draco aimed for the chair again and this time Harry felt like he did sense something else underneath the mysterious magical energy. It was almost as if there was another stream of it running along that he hadn't gotten a handle on yet. Harry grasped for it with the strange new instinct inside him and realized with amazement that he could somehow _feel_ Draco doing the same. The lights shot out and hit the chair but instead of blasting it backward the bolts gave a great yank and the chair came shooting towards them.  
  
Hermione cried.  
  
Harry and Draco ducked as the chair shot straight towards their heads. As they turned away and the two boys lost their concentration, the purple light disappeared, releasing the chair from it's pull quite suddenly and causing it to fall at their feet with a clatter.  
  
Ron yipped. That would've knocked you out!  
  
How'd you do that? Draco demanded of Harry, breathing hard.  
  
Harry ogled Draco. How'd _you_ do that?  
  
Dumbledore said happily. Apparently, this creates a push _and_ pulling force.  
  
But how did _he_ know I was trying to pull, Harry asked. _I _barely knew that's what I was doing.  
  
Couldn't you tell, Potter? Draco said excitedly and again euphoric. _I_ could. Like in the back of my head, I knew you were doing the same thing somehow and when to go.  
  
I did, Harry confessed. It's just so strange.  
  
You must understand that you're connected now, Dumbledore said. You share the same instinct, as Draco said. That is why it's in perfect synchronicity.  
  
I'm connected to Potter, Draco mumbled, though rather amused.   
  
Next they tried to control the force and simply push the chair gently backward which had the chair jerking forcefully back, stopping and then sliding against the wall. They attempted to cast a spell on the chair and turn it green which did not work and Dumbledore explained that the power was probably a simple force that could push and pull and perhaps even blow things up with it's sheer energy.   
  
Can we try to blow something up then? Draco asked hopefully.  
  
I think that would be a better experiment out of doors, Dumbledore said wisely. And from a great distance.  
  
What happens if they aim at each other? Hermione asked.  
  
What happens?! Harry said incredulously. We'd kill each other!  
  
I do not think this is the sort of power that would _allow_ you to destroy yourselves, Dumbledore argued.   
  
Let's give it a shot, Draco said easily and only because Harry didn't seem to want to.  
  
Harry, not wanting to be bested, grudgingly agreed and the others stayed out of the way as they faced each other.  
  
said Draco, let me stand apart from the window. I don't want you blasting me out of it.  
  
Hermione agreed. You've got quite enough experience with that.  
  
They were at the other end of the room, standing a few feet apart, the other door to McGonagall's classroom behind Harry and a wall behind Draco.  
  
Ginny seemed anxious. I don't know if this is such a good idea after what Harry told me happened to that Erumpet.  
  
It's okay, Ginny, Harry said easily. We'll be fine.  
  
Harry and Draco faced each other, Draco with his hand raised up chest level again. A moment later the bolts shot out and met in the middle in a spectacular burst of purple light which slammed Draco against the wall and threw Harry right out the door against the opposite wall in the hallway.  
  
Hermione cried, running to Draco as Ginny ran to Harry.  
  
Draco wheezed, sitting up slowly where he was slumped on the floor. I'm fine. Where'd Potter end up? Hermione helped Draco to his feet and Ron just crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, bemused.  
  
A few moments later Harry stumbled back into the classroom, closely followed by Ginny. he murmured. Nearly did kill me. Scared the death out of Peeves though.  
  
said Dumbledore, perhaps we should be a bit careful with that one. I think we should put off further experimentation until tomorrow, yes?  
  
Harry and Draco nodded reluctantly, still wired up and the chairs were moved back to their original positions. They refilled their hot chocolate and Dumbledore spoke again.  
  
We have much more to discuss and we will come back to this later. But Draco, I think, has been experiencing another oddity?  
  
Draco sighed, feeling like he was in the middle of some sort of group therapy session. Well, yes, he said. But how did you find out? I haven't told anyone.  
  
Hermione was looking at him questioningly and Draco looked away, feeling sheepish.  
  
Professor Snape came across it,' Dumbledore answered. The other day, I believe you attempted to persuade him into taking back a homework assignment? Why don't you explain to me what it is you've experienced.  
  
Draco swallowed. When I want someone to do something very badly, I taste this sugar in my mouth, like candy. And somehow it makes people change their minds. I just discovered it when I got back.  
  
Ron exclaimed. That's what you did to Hagrid.  
  
Draco glowered and nodded. He would've liked to have kept this to himself. It would've been useful in getting Weasley and Potter to do things for him. Still could be, he thought idolly.  
  
It didn't work with Snape though, he said. It didn't work on Hermione either. I tried it the other day.  
  
Hermione put aside her indignance that Draco had attempted to play her like a flute and instead asked, But what is it, professor? I've never heard of anything like that.  
  
Draco is a persuader, Dumbledore explained. Like the other special gifts that you, Miss Granger and you, Mr. Weasley have received, it is a gift that did not show up for quite a time, until late adolescence.  
  
Hermione and Ron looked up in surprise.   
  
Ron whispered to Hermione.  
  
Dumbledore had a far off look in his eyes. Magic is a funny thing, he said. Reacts differently in every witch and wizard. For example, Harry's intriguing gift of the parsel mouth was something he always had, whether he knew it or not. While these other gifts lay dormant, just waiting to be let out. Strange how they should all make themselves known at once like this. It' s almost like... well...  
  
Draco said softly, drawing everyone's attention.  
  
Dumbledore said with a smile. But getting back to your singular talent, Mr.Malfoy. Persuaders are exceedingly rare. The most famous, I believe, was Nickolas Yornbyrne, a Swedish wizard who died over thirty years ago.  
  
_Yornbyrne's Odd Birds_! Hermione said automatically, and just as quickly flushing.  
  
Very good, Miss Granger, Dumbledore said. Yes, Yornbyrne's specialty was in magical creatures, birds specifically. But he also wrote a couple of books about the gift of persuasion which you should read, Mr. Malfoy.  
  
But why didn't it work with Snape? Draco wanted to know. It worked with Filch, he admitted. And Hagrid and the bar-... er, someone else.  
  
Dumbledore was amused. A highly trained wizard such as Snape would catch on, Draco. And Snape has come across persuaders before. There are a couple in the Ministry. No death eaters that we _know_ of, thank Merlin, Dumbledore added. But Snape could tell by the tone of your voice and the look in your eye that you were a persuader. He faltered for a moment. You almost got away with it.  
  
Hold on, Ron said, you mean _Malfoy_ can make people do what they don't want to do? Can change people's minds just like that?  
  
Dumbledore said casually. For a time and with a few limitations.  
  
Ron snorted.   
  
But why do I taste sugar? Draco asked.  
  
Ah, yes, Dumbledore said, it's common among persuaders. Just a way to let you know that the magic is present. If you don't taste that sweet flavor, it's not going to work.  
  
A sweet talking dragon... Hermione murmured to herself in wonder.   
  
Can I make the sugary taste come then? Will it work? he asked.  
  
Dumbledore said. With training. You've done it already and not known it. You must focus on the question and the person you're asking. Intent is also a factor.  
  
Draco sat silently for a moment and then faced Hermione. he said firmly, fetch me a glass of water.  
  
Fetch your own water, skrewt! she yipped immediately.  
  
Draco looked at Dumbledore wryly and gestured toward her. It never works with her. I could taste the sugar and everything.  
  
Dumbledore chortled. And that is interesting in itself. As I said, intent is a factor. It only works if you really _want_ it to work. You do not want to manipulate Hermione. Therefore you're unable to.  
  
Hermione smiled and Draco went a bit pink, realizing it was true, sat back in his chair and just as soon sat back up and stared at Ron. Hey, Weasley, he said. Fetch me a glass of water.  
  
Ron shrugged, He stood up and started to leave as Draco and others began to laugh.  
  
Dumbledore sighed and stood up, grabbing Ron by the robes. Not so fast, Mr. Weasley, he said, sitting him back down.  
  
Ron sat down reluctantly and was quiet as the others were still laughing. A moment later he went a bit googly eyed before glaring at Draco. I'll get you for that one, Malfoy!  
  
Draco was nonplussed. he mused. Doesn't seem to last very long.  
  
It's a touchy thing, Dumbledore said. You need to read Yornbyrne's books. Sometimes it depends on how well you know the person you're persuading or if they're interrupted as I interrupted Mr.Weasley... And with training, of course, the talent will strengthen.  
  
Do we _want_ it to? Ron asked rhetorically.  
  
I do assume, Mr.Malfoy, that you will use your gift for good and not evil? Dumbledore inquired.  
  
Draco looked sneaky. I _suppose_.  
  
Hermione nudged him and he smirked, Yes, yes, he said. I'm a Gryffindor, I'm an angel. Moving on.  
  
Dumbledore said. Now to Hermione. You've been having some interesting dreams, I think?  
  
Hermione blushed and nodded.  
  
They're prophetic, Harry said proudly. She knew about Draco becoming a Gryffindor.  
  
Draco looked surprised. You did?  
  
I had a dream about a green dragon, she said. It was sitting in the Gryffindor common room. And since Draco means dragon and green is a Slytherin color... well, once Dumbledore announced you were coming to our tower, it was a little too much to have been a coincidence. She looked at Dumbledore and said, I also knew he was in trouble the other night and where he was. It- it worked out alright though.  
  
I see, Dumbledore said, deliberately not prodding her for more information on that topic. Have you ever had these sort of dreams before? Think hard.  
  
Hermione sighed and sat back. Not really, she said. I had a recurring dream in the summer. But it wasn't very interesting.  
  
Dumbledore looked interested though so Hermione described it.   
  
I dreamt of a bunch of griffins. Six, I think. They weren't doing anything. Just sitting in the middle of a desert. But since I'm a Gryffindor, I didn't think anything of it. I thought it was just my subconscious fooling around. I had that dream... Well, six times I think.  
  
Most interesting, Dumbledore mumbled.  
  
Hermione, you were dreaming about us! Ron said. We're all Gryffindors now.  
  
But there only five of us, genius, Draco snipped. Counting your sister.  
  
Dumbledore seemed to say to himself. Well... that remains to be seen.  
  
You won't tell Professor Trelawney, will you? Hermione pleaded.  
  
Dumbledore chuckled. I'm sure she'll find out eventually, Miss Granger. And you will have to be taught how to read and decipher your dreams. Even to dream lucidly, that is control your dreams and perhaps gather information. Trelawney... hmm, well... she will not be overseeing your study in that arena. We'll be bringing in a specialist.  
  
Hermione seemed greatly relieved on that point.  
  
And Mr.Weasley, Dumbledore said, with a mischievous smile. Hearing voices in your head, are you?  
  
Ron smiled and shrugged. Well, yeah, he said. At the moment they're Australian. There's a loud bloke named Steve in there who's seems very excited about a crocodile...  
  
As I'm sure you've already presumed, Dumbledore said. You, Mr. Weasley, are a telepath. It's not a trick or a hex of any kind. Why don't you tell me when it started and how it's progressed?  
  
Ron took a bit of biscuit, chewed and swallowed and told his story. It started a few days ago, he said. First I could only hear my friends, some little thought from Harry or Hermione. It was very confusing, because I thought they were talking to me at first. And then suddenly the floodgates opened and I could hear hundreds of thoughts. Like all of Hogwarts was yelling in my head. It went back and forth. I learned to focus on specific people and then I could only hear people I was close to. But the next day it was the opposite and I heard people in other countries, loud and soft. I'm getting better at tuning it out, I think. It doesn't keep me awake at least.  
  
Malfoy looked at him sharply. Have you been reading my mind, Weasley?  
  
Can we talk about this later, Malfoy? Ron hissed.  
  
Dumbledore said firmly. By all means. Now obviously, you will also need special training. More then the others, I expect. And from what you've told me, I see that you are a particularly powerful telepath.  
  
Ron looked shocked and Ginny and Hermione beamed in pride. Ron, it seemed, had finally been singled out. So much for being the goofy, redheaded side kick, Hermione thought.  
  
Dumbledore said, in some amazement. Quite extraordinary. Not only that all of you are so distinctly gifted but to be brought together in such a... Dumbledore shook his head. Quite extraordinary.  
  
Ginny, who had been sitting patiently in her chair, sipping hot chocolate and watching Dumbledore talk about the astounding super powers of her best friends... and Malfoy, finally managed to speak up.  
  
Um, excuse me, she said quietly. Professor? I don't quiet understand why I'm here.  
  
Dumbledore looked confused. Miss Weasley?  
  
It's just... Ginny was the one blushing now. It's just, I don't have one of these special new magical powers so I don't know why you asked me here exactly.  
  
Miss Weasley! Dumbledore said again. Do you think that your spectacular talent with potions is not a gift?  
  
Ginny stuttered, Well... I...  
  
Do you not know that our Professor Snape, who has never, I must admit, been particularly impressed with even his best students, gushes about our Miss Weasley to the rest of the staff?  
  
Harry and Ron's eyebrow raised to the ceiling and Dumbledore continued, Your adeptness at potions is unparalleled by any student your age in the history of Hogwarts!  
  
Ginny was so red she was blending into her chair, she said simply.  
  
It is my understanding that you have already produced a couple of your own inventions? Your father told me about it when I ran into him in Diagon Alley last week.  
  
Hermione looked gleeful. Really, Ginny?  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. The only drawback to excelling at something was her parent's reaction. Arthur and Molly were positively bursting with pride and told anyone with a pulse about their genius daughter even in front of Ginny even in _public_.   
  
Fly potion from what I understand? Dumbledore said.  
  
I call it Fly because it allows you to walk up walls, Ginny explained.  
  
Ron exclaimed.  
  
Dumbledore said with typical twinkle. I also invited you here, Ginny, simply because I assumed you to be a close friend of the other people here and I believed that what concerned them also concerned you. Is that not true?  
  
Ginny smiled and nodded as Harry squeezed her hand lovingly.  
  
Dumbledore said, as for your training...  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	8. Bolt Bounding

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin  
  
** **Chapter 7: Bolt Bounding  
**  
**Author's Notes:** For anyone who was worried, the new Draco is not thaaaat new. Those devil's horns are still peeking through and we would never want him to lose his sharp tongue. Heh. There are some Prisoner of Azkaban references and I hope I'm right about what Draco might not know. Also, all these plots are taking off but I'll try to keep the Draco/Hermione stuff plentiful. Bon appetite!  
  
bChapter 7: Bolt Bounding/b  
  
Malfoy! MALFOY! For God's sake...  
  
Ron prodded the seemingly comatose Slytherin again and shrugged at Harry. Across the room a second year grumbled and burrowed under his pillow. Things worked fast in the wizarding world. Hermione, Ron, Harry and Draco were asked if they would mind getting up early in the morning the very next day after their detention. Of course, the very next day was Sunday and their usual opportunity for sleeping in. Dumbledore admitted that specialists had already traveled to Hogwarts by floo powder due to the headmaster's deductions about their respective talents. Charged with the excitement of having unusually powerful gifts, the four agreed though Ron and Harry were now mentally kicking themselves and wanted nothing more then to crawl back into their warm beds.  
  
I thought he had _trouble_ sleeping, Harry protested, rubbing his own half-shut eyes.  
  
Ron glanced at the clock which read, No time to dawdle.  
  
Ron muttered.  
  
They heard a knock on the door of Draco's room and Hermione's voice rang out.  
  
Are you up in there?!  
  
Ron let Hermione in and rose and eyebrow. Draco is... what's the word?  
  
Harry answered.  
  
Hermione smiled, glad that Draco was now getting sleep even if it meant they would be a few minutes late for their first morning of training. She also knew that if his experience had been anything like hers, he got to sleep very late. Dumbledore had insisted they go straight to bed from his conference. Which they did, except that Hermione had lain awake for what seemed like hours thinking about that incredible kiss. Had she asked him, she would've been right. Draco had thought of nothing but Hermione until quite late.  
  
Maybe _you_ can work some magic, Ron said knowingly.  
  
Hermione tossed him a look but strode over to Draco's bed where he slept, his face all relaxed innocence, stray blonde locks shuttering one eye and knelt beside him.   
  
Draco? C'mon, wake up, dragon breath, she said wryly.  
  
Draco stirred, stretched with his eyes still closed and then opened them to see the face of his pretty tutor. Draco smiled in an uncharacteristically loopy manner.  
  
Hello, love, he said lazily.  
  
Hermione glanced nervously up at Harry and Ron. Er, still half asleep, she said, attempting a chuckle.  
  
Of course, Harry said smirking.  
  
Hermione hissed. We've got training! You've got to get up!  
  
Draco stretched again and rolled over onto his back to see Harry and Ron looming over him.  
  
What's this? he said. The Brothers Dim? Out to raid my memories once more?  
  
Oh honestly, Draco... Hermione sighed.  
  
Look, I'm not apologizing _again_, Ron insisted.  
  
Harry, Ron, Hermione said, you two just go get ready. I can handle this one.  
  
The two boys shrugged and left and Hermione turned back to her romantic interest. She reached for a spritzer bottle of pink liquid and fixed Draco with a determined look.  
  
she directed.  
  
  
Draco obediently opened his maw and Hermione sprayed a shot of _Morning Mouth_ into it. Having gotten cleaned up and dressed a half hour ago, Hermione needed none herself.  
  
I do not have dragon's breath, Draco said weakly.  
  
You are in a mental state which we muggleborns like to refer to as Hermione said in a deliberately patronizing tone.  
  
And you are in de Amazon, Draco retorted.  
  
Hermione chuckled but the moment was followed by an awkward pause.  
  
Draco let out a breath and said,   
  
Hermione returned.  
  
Draco sat up on the edge of his bed and stared into Hermione's eyes. The two of them had had no chance to elaborate on their little incident in the forest and Draco couldn't help but wonder if she regretted anything.  
  
About last night... he said.  
  
Hermione breathed.   
  
Draco clasped her hand in his and played with her fingers.  
  
Draco struggled for words. An unusual problem for him. That is... I like... well, there's you and then... there's me. Or I.  
  
Hermione was charmed. Draco Malfoy, are you trying to tell me you _fancy_ me?   
  
Don't toy with a man on the edge, prefect, Draco said in a sorry attempt at his usual drawl.  
  
Do you _like_ me? Hermione asked gleefully. Or do you like me-like me?  
  
Enough with the clever banter, Draco thought to himself. This was serious. Draco leaned forward and kissed Hermione softly.  
  
I like you, he whispered. He planted several more soft kisses and whispered, I like you-like you-like you...  
  
The funny thing was, he could actually _feel_ her blush.  
  
I like you too, she answered. She kissed him on the lips and Draco felt his heart bouncing up and down. And then she leaned back and smiled like the playful minx, he'd always known she could be.  
  
Please, sir, can I have some more? Draco pleaded pitifully.  
  
Not if you call me sir, Hermione replied but kissed him again anyway. She stopped just as quickly, her head cocked to one side.   
  
You've read Dickens?  
  
Draco wiped the sleep out of his eyes. Dickens was a squib.  
  
Hermione gasped.   
  
I think he wrote all those lousy novels to compensate, Draco said.  
  
Enough book talk, he declared, entangling his hands in Hermione's hair. No morning is complete without a good snog.  
  
Hermione shook her head but smiled. Not for people with purple lights shooting out of their extremities. Get up, lazy bones.  
  
Draco growled and forced himself out of bed.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
At the far end of the Gryffindor table sat three exhausted boys resentfully eating eggs and one perfectly energized Hermione. Dumbledore had ordered the house elves to serve a special breakfast to his beloved Gryffindors since they were getting up so much earlier then the rest of the school to train.  
  
It doesn't seem quite fair, said Ron, that my dear sister has one of these special gifts or whatever but _she_ doesn't have to get up at seven o'clock in the morning on a Sunday. And five o'clock on Monday and Wednesday! Five o'clock in the bloody morning!  
  
Hermione swallowed a bite of sausage. Your dear sister spends the majority of her Saturday down in the dungeon and a couple of her weeknights as well.  
  
said Ron, but Ginny doesn't have to get up early for quidditch practice on Tuesday and Thursday.  
  
Oh, whine whine whine, Hermione sighed.  
  
_I_ have to go to two different training sessions, Draco pointed out. One with Potter here and one to learn about persuading.  
  
Hermione patted his hand and smiled sweetly. Yes, Monsieur Draco, you're very special.  
  
Draco huffed, I didn't mean it that way!  
  
Yes, you did, Ron said easily. Besides, the rest of you only go twice a week. And your Persuader training is only half an hour.  
  
Bicker, bicker, bicker, Hermione muttered.  
  
I wonder why there's no class for parsel mouths, Harry said, leaning on his fist.  
  
Draco shrugged. What do you have to learn for that? You see a snake, you start talking.  
  
Harry said, but I wonder if snakes in other countries have different dialects or anything.  
  
Ron laughed. What? Like a snake with a Spanish accent?  
  
Harry yipped, looking slightly affronted.  
  
Hermione was smiling slyly at Draco. So Draco, Harry can make a snake do anything he wants and _you_ can't make _me_ do anything.  
  
Draco looked pleasantly astonished and rose his eyebrows. Keep talking like that, woman, and we can try it again!  
  
Oh brother, Ron said, curling his lip.  
  
Soooooo, Hermione, Harry said, seeing Ron sulking at Draco and Hermione's obvious flirtation. Any interesting dreams?  
  
Sort of, she said. But I don't know what it means, as per usual. Just a bird's wings flapping.  
  
That's it? Ron asked.  
  
she said. Flapping bird's wings. A black bird... maybe the same one I saw perched on your shoulder in the other dream, Ron.  
  
They sat and thought about it for a moment, but no one could figure out what the bird meant.  
  
Who do you think will be our teachers anyway? Harry asked.  
  
Ministry specialists, Hermione said, shrugging. Dumbledore said there are a couple of persuaders in the ministry. And certainly telepaths and prophetic dreamers. But I can't guess who's going to train you and Draco. No one in the world has ever been in your exact situation.  
  
Ron agreed, you two are a couple of freaks.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes at the Weasley boy. Hey, Weasley. Can you tell what I'm thinking right now?  
  
Ron frowned and then his eyes widened. Kiss your mother with that mind?  
  
No. But you can kiss my-  
  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Hermione, typical overachiever, sat in McGonagall's room, the only student in a class of one. She shifted around in the center seat of the front row, fresh parchment and quill in front of her, feeling rather dubious about any divination specialist, even if it wasn't Trelawney. She tapped her quill impatiently and began to wonder if she had the wrong room. Suddenly the door was thrown open and an imposing figure in black and silver robes entered.  
  
Ah! Fraulein Granger! Guten morgen! Wie gates? Ich heisse Frau Traumdeuter.  
  
Hermione blinked.  
  
Frau Traumdeuter stood regally before her, and with her graying dark hair pulled so tightly back, she looked permanently surprised. She stared down her severe hawk nose at the hapless Gryffindor expectantly.  
  
Hermione stuttered. I...I'm sorry, Frau Traumdeuter. I... I don't speak German.  
  
She was faltering because she was starting to wonder if she _should_ know German. Was divination a German art at it's root? How would she have missed that?  
  
_Oh dear...  
_  
But Frau Traumdeuter was chuckling now and shaking her head.  
  
I'm sorry, Mizz Granger. Entschuldigung. I ave never taught a closs in English before and eet's zo early in ze morning.  
  
That's alright, Hermione assured her.  
  
A few sings you should know, the Frau said, leaning back on McGonagall's desk. I am a specialist in dream prophecy for the ministry and I would like eet noted I did not seek out zis occupation. It sought _me_ out.  
  
Hermione smiled wryly.  
  
I mean, come on, the prophetess said, throwing her hands in the air, I'm German for Merlin's zake! I don't go een for zis sort of ting! It took a lot of convincing for me to take divination seriously. But you may be surprised to find zat it is a leetle more zientific then you suspected! Ve are goink to write dream logs! Study symbolism and learn to sort out prophecy from simple zychological influence.  
  
Hermione nodded and wondered if Traumdeuter was maybe a little telepathic as well. She seemed to be reading Hermione's mind.  
  
the Frau said abruptly. Tell me about your dreams!  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Ron felt all out of sorts. Not until this very moment, standing before the door to Flitwich's classroom, had he felt nervous. There had always been something oddly comforting about being one of many children in a family. Another Weasley, the charming but otherwise unremarkable best friend... No spectacular expectations. Just bumbling alongside Harry on one adventure or another. Well, alright, he was great at chess and a solid quidditch player. But this telepathy thing was different. This had the possibility of becoming his defining feature. He'd been singled out. It felt... alien. But also pretty thrilling. So Ron cleared his throat and opened the door and seeing five very anxious looking sorts all in ministry robes, he hesitated for a moment. They all looked young, not much older then Percy.   
  
They also looked excited. They _were_ excited too. Ron could hear them all thinking. From what Ron could hear, all of them but one were thinking of what an important moment this was and how this Weasley kid could be the most powerful telepath since Chekov Biuerskefsky (whoever that was) and how lucky they were to be present on such a great historical moment. But walking into the room, Ron heard one very loud voice sounding rather buzzy and shouting, _JELLY AND BISCUITS! JELLY AND BISCUITS! JELLY AND BISCUITS! YUM YUM YUM! _And he was thinking it in a gruff Scottish accent.   
  
Er... is this...? he started to say.  
  
One of them yelped, striding forward and sticking out a hand to shake. An absolute _privilege_ to meet you, Ron!  
  
Ron said, rather surprised. Thank you.  
  
Very good! he said happily. Howdyedo? I am Brian Ashes, assistant to the Minister of Telepathy and Kinesis over at the ministry.  
  
How do you do, Ron said automatically. He smiled nervously but cast sidelong glances at the four others hovering nearby and eyeing him like he was the latest model of Nimbus.  
  
And, of course, Brian said, chuckling, you're wondering who all of these people are.  
  
Well, yes, He admitted.  
  
A young woman with short black hair and black rimmed glasses stepped forward and smiled. I'm Moira, she said brightly, shaking his hand. I'm an intern at T and K. Wonderful to meet you.  
  
A blonde man with a goatee looked equally jubilant and a little awestruck. And I'm Krell. I'm a T and K caseworker. An honor, he said, pumping Ron's hand up and down.  
  
another said, Intern. Pleasure, sir!  
  
Ron balked. _Sir?_  
  
Gaidia, the other woman, this one with hair much like Ginny's said. Assistant to the vice minister. Excellent!  
  
Brian regarded Ron. The sixteen year-old looked winded. He gestured to a desk in the front row and Ron sat, the others sitting in chairs facing him with Brian in the middle.  
  
Now, Ron, Brian started to say. I have brought my colleagues with me because you present to us an exciting opportunity!  
  
A once in a lifetime opportunity! Gaidia piped up.  
  
Ron was flummoxed. I... I do?  
  
From what Headmaster Dumbledore has told us, you're more advanced already then most telepaths ever become.  
  
he said.   
  
Is it true you can hear people in other countries who you don't even _know_? Gaidia asked.  
  
Well, yeah, Ron said, blushing.  
  
The four assistants collectively oohed and ahhed and Ron just laughed nervously. Brian unrolled a parchment then and took out his wand, clearing his throat.  
  
Brian said determinedly. We already have the details of the case and right now we'd like to perform a few... tests to see exactly how advanced you are. Is that okay with you?  
  
Ron squeaked.  
  
We'll start very simply, Brian said. Now, you're going to leave the room and I'm going to give a card with a word on it to Nicolae, Gaidia, Moira and Krell which they will all be thinking clearly in their minds but which they will not allow you to see When you come in, I want you to tell me what their words are. Do you understand?  
  
Ron said, sounding much more confident then he was.  
  
Ron got up and went outside, completely unsure of himself. He stood by a window in the corridor and looked out on the early autumn morning. He watched a bird fly from a turret, soar low over the lake and circle around back toward the castle. The bird settled on a ledge near his window and Ron gazed at it, noticing that it was an odd but beautiful bird, black with white tail feathers. And then the thought of Hermione's dream hit him with full force.  
  
_Flapping bird's wings. A black bird... maybe the same one I saw perched on your shoulder...  
  
_ Ron stuttered.  
  
Ron heard a shrill voice say.  
  
Ron spun around to see a grinning Professor McGonagall making her way down the hall. He immediately took mental inventory, wondering what he had done wrong, only to read in her wide open mind, that she was particularly pleased with him.  
  
'Morning, professor, Ron said respectfully.  
  
Good morning! Are you in the middle of one of your... McGonagall spoke in a hushed voice,   
  
Ron leaned over a little, wondering who she was whispering for. Er, yes. I mean I think so.  
  
she cried, clapping her hands. Do ye mind if I sit in with you?  
  
Ron shook his head, knowing he had no choice anyway. Of course not.  
  
Brian called, opening the door. We're ready for you. Oh! Hello, professor!  
  
Ron took one last curious look at the bird which seemed suddenly to consciously notice him, tilting it's little head.  
  
I'll... er, be right back, he found himself muttering at the bird.  
  
Ron followed Brian and McGonagall back into the room and Brian led him over to the other four, all standing in a straight line. McGonagall sat in a seat nearby, looking as if she were having the time of her life.  
  
Now, Ron, Brian said. I want you to look each person in the eye and just tell me what the word on their card is.  
  
Ron nodded and stepped over to Moira, who smiled at him cheekily.  
  
_I'm thinking of the word Can you hear that? I bet you can! Sunshine and sunshine and sunshine...  
  
_ Ron said clearly.  
  
Moira squealed and held up her card which read in bold black lettering. Brian wrote something down and Ron stepped over to Krell.  
  
_I'm thinking of the word I'm definitely not thinking about Moira dumping me and how I'm going to die alone and wretched when it's all over. I'm definitely thinking of the word Stupid witch._  
  
Um, broomstick, Ron said, a little embarrassed. Krell held up his card, glancing over at Moira as he did so.  
  
Very good! Brian said.  
  
Before moving on, Ron leaned over to Krell and softly said, Good luck with that, man.  
  
Krell nodded grimly and Ron went on to Gaidia.  
  
_Sailboats, sailboats... I've never been sailing myself. Have you? Certainly wouldn't go on one of those horrid muggle sailboats. Magic only, I think. But sailboats, sailboats none the less.  
  
_ Ron said easily. And, no I haven't been, he said to Gaidia, I mean, if you were really asking.  
  
Gaidia just held up the correct card and nodded and smiled and Ron moved on to Nicolae.  
  
_SUGAR PLUMS! SUGAR PLUMS! SUGAR PLUMS! SUGAR PLUMS!  
  
_SUGAR PLUMS! Ron shouted, immediately coloring. Er, sorry.  
  
Nicolae showed his card which, of course, read sugar plums and grinned. From her seat in the second row, McGonagall applauded loudly.  
  
said Brian. Excellent! Why don't we move on to something a bit more difficult?  
  
Nearly an hour later, when his training session time was almost up, Ron sat, his chin leaning on his hand. McGonagall had lingered a while and then left, looking quite proud. Brian had been taking copious notes during each exercise. The interns seemed nervous as Brian sat muttering to himself and scribbling on his parchments. Brian sat down across from Ron and showed him a scroll showing a line graph portraying three lines, all quivering slightly within the graph at various levels.  
  
Um, this, Brian said, pointing to the graph with his wand, is your T.Q. This graph measures your current level of skill, your potential for advancement and your connection to telepathic forces, which will be explained later. The levels are then formulated and well, the resulting number is your Telepathic Quotient. And... and obviously, the higher the number the more powerful a telepath your are. Muggles have a system similar to this to measure intelligence, an I.Q. Now, I've gone through extensive training just to learn how to create and score a T.Q. and... and I have formulated and reformulated your levels seven times just to make sure but...  
  
What is it? Ron asked breathlessly.  
  
Your T.Q.... scored a 163, Brian whispered.  
  
The assistants gasped and Ron just blinked. They leaned in as if inspecting Ron for outward signs of his telepathy.  
  
Gaidia said, sounding like a child at the circus.  
  
Er, is a... is a 163 good? Ron asked.  
  
The most powerful telepath who ever lived was Chekov Biuerskefsky. He died over three hundred years ago, Brian said slowly. He had a T.Q. of 154.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Draco hollered into the empty classroom. Must have the wrong room...  
  
On the contrary! said a squeaky little voice.  
  
Draco looked around and frowned, still not seeing the voice's origin. A chair behind Vector's sizable desk moved and atop it climbed a tiny little old man with wildly curly dark red hair.  
  
Draco said in surprise. Are you...?  
  
The little man stood on top of the chair and stuck out his tiny hand for Draco to shake, which he did, using only three fingers.  
  
My name is Gordelately Bruper. You can call me Gordi. And you, Gordi said, putting on a pair of spectacles, are Draco Malfoy, I presume?  
  
Draco said, nodding.  
  
said Gordi. I hardly needed to guess. I've seen your picture in the papers... But all of that is another story.  
  
Draco grimaced and rolled his eyes.  
  
I suppose you don't like talking about what happened that night on Grier's Mountain, Gordi said.  
  
Draco was starting to get angry. As a matter of fact, I _don't_.  
  
Gordi continued easily. So tell me what happened.  
  
Well, there was this girl named Lauren- Draco started to say.  
  
Gordi shouted.  
  
Draco blinked and Gordi just stared at him a moment until a funny sensation, like a bit of a tickle in his brain knocked him to attention and he felt like he'd woken up from a daydream.  
  
he muttered to himself.  
  
You have just been persuaded, Gordi announced. How did it feel?  
  
I didn't want to say anything, Draco said. But I felt sort of... dazed and then my mouth started saying the words without my brain knowing about it.  
  
Gordi said. You must understand the power you wield and how it feels to be under it before you start using it. It is a dangerous thing.  
  
Gordi stopped and eyed Draco carefully over the rim of his spectacles.   
  
It is important for you to understand, Gordi said, the consequences of your power. You must never use it to make mischief.  
  
Of course not. After all, I'm a Gryffindor, Draco said, doing his best impression of an innocent smile and trying to sound convincing. I'm an angel.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Harry was doing seeker's drills on the Quidditch field, killing time until Draco returned from his persuader's training. He supposed it would've made more sense for him to sleep in a little and join Draco when he was ready, but he figured he could use the bit of extra practice. He was doing yet another feint, and resisting the urge to try a free fall when he spotted someone who looked quite familiar sitting in the bleachers. Harry pulled up and flew nearer and he could hardly believe his eyes as he came in for a landing next to a certain disheveled wizard who was applauding him and smiling.  
  
Harry gasped.  
  
You're already good enough to play for Chudley, Lupin said by way of greeting.  
  
Harry sat down next to his friend and former professor and took in the sight of him. He certainly looked better then the last time Harry had seen him. Apparently Auror Camp or wherever it was he was staying was agreeing with him. He also noticed that Lupin wore a small glass vial on a chain around his neck.  
  
How've you been? Harry asked. What are you doing here? How's Sirius? Do you know about Malfoy? Are you teaching here again?  
  
Lupin chuckled and held up his hands. One question at a time, he protested.  
  
Harry took a deep breath and sat back and Lupin cleared his throat.  
  
First of all, he said. It's great to see you.  
  
You too, Harry agreed.  
  
Sirius is doing very well, Lupin said, and noticed Harry's shoulders relax. There have been a few... scuffles lately. Partly related to that Grier's Mountain business. I'm doing well myself. I feel better then I have before. And I do know about Draco, that's why I'm here. I'll be training you.  
  
Harry's eyes lit up. he exclaimed. But... oh, what about your...  
  
Lupin smiled slightly and held up the vial hanging around his neck. Looking closer, Harry saw that there was a tiny silver moon painted on it.  
  
An improved concoction of Wolfsbane, Lupin said. Created by the ingenious Miss Virginia Weasley. Dumbledore asked her personally to try her hand at it a couple of weeks ago and Miss Weasley was able to strengthen the concentration. Now all I have to do is take a tiny little sip once a week. She even made me this necklace so I won't lose it.  
  
I can't believe she didn't tell me! Harry said, wondering at his girlfriend's very sanity.  
  
It was supposed to be a surprise, Lupin admitted. I was going to come for a visit but Dumbledore told me over the fire last night about you and Draco and your new... abilities. He seems to think I'm the best man to show you how to utilize them.  
  
This is great! Harry gushed. I can't wait to see Ron and Mione's faces! It'll be just like third year! Only without the evil rat... and the death omens and thinking Sirius was evil... and also Draco's a good guy this time. Well... relatively anyway.  
  
Lupin just laughed at his babbling and looked down to see the Malfoy in question approaching the quidditch pitch.  
  
he said. Here comes our relatively good guy now!  
  
Draco trudged over through the lush and dewy wet grass toward the pitch, burdened with a load of several massive tomes. Persuading had seemed like such a simple thing when Dumbledore had explained it. But Bruper insisted there was much to learn. Draco set his books on a bench at the edge of the field and looked to see Harry and a certain werewolf appear from under the bleachers.  
  
_Oh, crap._  
  
Draco's mind raced. The last time he'd seen Lupin, Lucius' blood was still wet on his Hogwarts cloak. Not to mention that he'd gone flying into the night as Lupin called after him. Then there was the matter of his relationship to Lupin during third year. He hadn't exactly tried to endear himself to the man. Yet there he was, striding forward with a kind smile on his face and holding out his hand.  
  
  
Lupin said. It's very good to see you.  
  
Draco glanced from Lupin to Harry and found himself inexplicably looking to Potter for help.  
  
I... hello, Draco stuttered. Why're you... I didn't know you were here.  
  
Other then Draco's famously rude behavior to Lupin in the past, Harry couldn't account for his nervousness now and he frowned until the memory of what he'd seen in the pensieves hit him. Harry licked his lips and tried to sound casual.  
  
Lupin's going to be our trainer, Malfoy. But don't worry... he said slowly, no boggarts this time.  
  
Draco relaxed but was inwardly almost taken aback by Harry's kindness in diffusing the awkward moment so easily.  
  
_Great_, Draco thought, _now I owe him one.  
  
_Draco cleared his throat and shook Lupin's hand.   
  
I can't say how glad I am to see you looking so well, Draco, Lupin said seriously. The wizarding world owes you an enormous debt of gratitude.  
  
Harry wasn't sure if Draco looked more or less nervous then before. The ex-Slytherin just nodded and scratched the hand with his scar.  
  
Um, thanks, Draco mumbled.  
  
Hey, what're all those books? Harry asked, pointing to the bench and once again breaking the tension.  
  
said Draco, Bruper, the persuader. He's making me read _The Collected Memoirs of Nickolas Yornbyrne_.  
  
Odd birds too? Lupin kidded.  
  
Lord, I hope not, Draco said.  
  
said Lupin, enough of this chit chat. From what I understand, you two have purple lights shooting out of your respective flesh wounds?  
  
Sure, doesn't everyone? Draco said smoothly, though his calm tone belied the excitement he felt over learning to use this new gift.  
  
Lupin said. Let's see what you can do.  
  
Harry and Draco spent the next half an hour practicing their power to simply summon the mysterious force and then they worked on hitting objects with it as Lupin wrote notes on a parchment. The rush that the power caused had the two boys wired up and they were shouting and bouncing around like children.  
  
Lupin stroked his chin and started to say, What I'd like to-  
  
Lupin! Blimey! Harry shouted. Did you see that one?! That was brilliant! We shot that big rock right through the quaffle goal!  
  
Draco rubbed his hands together, his eyes wide. Let's do it again!  
  
Harry yipped in agreement.  
  
Lupin called. Hold on! I've got another idea. I think you'll find it to your liking.  
  
Ten minutes later, the three stood off from the pitch in the biggest expanse of grass on Hogwarts grounds. In the middle of the field was a large block of wood that Lupin had conjured for their purposes. Lupin had told Draco and Harry to aim at the block of wood and focus not on pushing or pulling but on the energy itself. Their assignment was to blow the block of wood up.  
  
Harry and Draco did not object to this idea.  
  
The two stood far away but focused on the wood, concentrating and trying to use the advice that Lupin imparted. Harry brushed his sweaty hair back off his scar and readied himself. Moments later he felt the now familiar surge come rushing up through his very blood and he focused on a tether of energy with in it, trusting Draco to do the same. The purple beams of light shot forward toward the wood until Harry accidentally jerked his head and the light veered off and hit a tree near the lake.  
  
Oh dear, Lupin said good-naturedly. Now you've set Herbert afire.  
  
Draco crossed his arms and smirked at Harry who just shrugged.  
  
So I missed, he said simply.  
  
Lupin pointed his wand at and said,   
  
The fire died out and Lupin asked them to try it again. Harry and Draco stared hard at the block of wood, Draco's outstretched palm nearly shaking with the effort. The beams of light shot out and and the wood blew apart in a very small explosion.  
  
_WAM!_  
  
Draco blurted.  
  
Lupin nodded and then squinted and then plopped down on the grass, scribbling all over his parchments. Draco and Harry were quite hyper and when Lupin wasn't watching, they took out their wands and started hexing each other (all in good fun, of course). Finally, Lupin glanced up to see Draco's arms flailing uncontrollably and Harry tap-dancing on the grass (as much as you can tap on grass).  
  
Lupin hollered.   
  
_Finite incantatum_, they said simultaneously, pointing their wands at each other.  
  
I've got one! Draco shouted, feeling a little drunk. He whipped around and aimed his open palm at Harry's forehead.  
  
Draco, wait-  
  
_WAM!_  
  
They two boys were thrown apart in a burst of purple light and ended up on opposite sides of the large grass field, as Lupin sat quietly mulling over his notes. Harry stood and dusted himself off and grumbled at the grass stains on his robes and the scrape on his elbow. Draco could hardly stand for laughter, even though he'd scraped his cheek and had dirt on his face.  
  
I've got to learn to control that, Harry grumbled.  
  
That was priceless, Potter, Draco said, still guffawing. The look on your face!  
  
  
  
Draco fell back to his knees and rolled onto his back, holding his stomach and laughing.  
  
Lupin said suddenly. This could be very interesting! Um, Harry...?  
  
_Finite incantatum, _ Harry sighed, rather reluctantly.  
  
Draco got to his feet and shot Harry a look who shot him a look back. Lupin stood, holding his parchments and approached the two boys.  
  
I want you try something else, Lupin said. Pick a spot in the air about twenty feet above the ground and shoot for it. Create a strong pulling force.  
  
Then what? Draco asked.  
  
I don't know yet, Lupin admitted.  
  
Fortunately, Draco and Harry were up for anything. So they picked a point in the sky to focus on. The purple beams blasted and seemed to anchor on to an arbitrary point in the air. Just as quickly as the beams appeared, Draco and Harry were yanked into the air, as if hanging on to two giant bungie cords.   
  
Harry shouted.  
  
The boys shot up exactly twenty feet to the beam's target and then the lightening bolts disappeared and gravity started to pull them back to the ground.  
  
Lupin crowed, pointing at the ground under the two boys.  
  
A moment later Draco and Harry hit the ground only to find that it had become as soft as a featherbed.  
  
Let's do it again! Harry pleaded.  
  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
  
  
I just can't believe it! Mrs. Weasley was crying, wiping tears from her eyes. My baby Ronnie a powerful telepath! And then Ginny, my potions genius... Oh! Mrs. Weasley gripped her red-faced youngest son in another in a series of bear hugs, much to his great embarrassment and protest.  
  
Mom! Mmph! He wheezed, his air supply interrupted.  
  
Oh, Professor McGonagall, his mother said, finally becoming distracted by someone else. I can't believe it! Can you believe it?!  
  
Ron finally managed to break away from his mother only to see his dear brothers Fred and George smirking delightedly and crossing their arms.  
  
Baby Ronnie! Fred shouted. You're a superstar!  
  
Hey, guys, Ron said weakly. Shouldn't you be at work?  
  
George stepped up and cupped Ron face in his hands as if he were an elderly auntie.   
  
We can't work at a time like this! George declared. Not when our little tiny itsy bitsy baby brother turns out to be the MOST POWERFUL WIZARD EVER TO WALK THE EARTH!  
  
Ron grimaced and hissed, Shut up, prat!  
  
Fred came up next to George and pinched Ron's cheeks and Ron attempted to push them away. The twins were both as light hearted as ever but they were starting to take their futures more seriously. Both were working two jobs each in Diagon Alley and still living at home, saving up enough galleons to start their own joke shop. Suddenly Fred gripped his head and made a terrible face.  
  
Oh! My head! Fred cried dramatically. He's reading my mind! I can feel it! Fred fell to the floor and writhed around at the feet of amused onlookers. Oh, the power! Oh, the omniscient amazing endless power of the great Ronald! Fred crawled over to Ron's feet and stroked his shoes tenderly. Oh, master! May I kiss your feet, sir?!  
  
Ron kicked Fred's hand and snorted. Cut it out, git!  
  
Ron's session was supposed to be over by ten but Brian was so awestruck by Ron's record breaking T.Q. that he insisted on summoning Dumbledore downstairs. And then the head of T & K himself flooed over to personally inspect the Ron's score and verified it on the spot. Dumbledore immediately contacted Ron's mother with the amazing news and she in turn flooed right over, considering it a moment of great importance in her little Ronnie's life... and in the history of the wizarding world. Dumbledore was happily making his way to the classroom when he ran into, or rather through Nearly Headless Nick who asked where Dumbledore was going in such a hurry.  
  
I have just been informed that our Mr. Ronald Weasley has a Telepathic Quotient of 163! Dumbledore effused.  
  
Nick returned, and immediately spirited away to tell every professor he could find. Soon professors were rushing down the corridors towards Flitwich's classroom, excitedly relating the wonderful news. The room filled up soon enough with everyone from Vector to Trelawney to Hooch, clapping him on the back and congratulating him on the promise of an exceptional future in magic. Ron had never blushed so much in his whole life. Dumbledore ordered up tea and biscuits from the house elves and a full reception was in swing. Even Snape was present, though he sat in a corner with Brian's notes, looking for mistakes in his scoring of the T.Q.  
  
Snape could later be heard grumbling his way out of the impromptu party saying, At least we now have definite proof that telepathic skills have nothing to do with intelligence!  
  
Fred and George, after suitably humiliating Ron and slipping the formula from Canary Creams into Snape's drink when they heard his remarks, made their exits. Ron himself began edging towards the door loaded down with _The Complete Works of Chekov Biuerskefsky_ and a copy of _Ethics of Telepathy_, feeling utterly overwhelmed and craving breathable air when he felt another clap on the shoulder.  
  
he mumbled automatically. Can't believe it, who knew, I'll be sure to use it wisely.  
  
He looked up to see Brian peaking over the pile of books and grinning from ear to ear, butter beer on his breath.  
  
Young Weasley! he cried. Just talked over the fire with _Telepathy Today_! They're dying to get an interview with you sometime soon!  
  
Ron stuttered. The magazine? Ron was vaguely familiar with the publication, he'd seen it out of the corner of his eye on newsstands in Diagon Alley. In the back of his mind he remembered that he'd read an interview in _Telepathy Today _ once in an issue all about telepathic quidditch players.  
  
They'd _love_ to meet you, Ron! Brian said, clearly enthused.  
  
Ron breathed. It's all so fast...  
  
Brian slapped him on the back and nodded. You think about it. No need to rush! After all, you have enough on your mind now without extra pressure. But I just can't say what a thrill it is to be involved in your training. One. Sixty. Three, Brian said, emphasizing each number. A miracle.  
  
Ron swallowed and heard the soothing voice of Dumbledore behind him.  
  
Dumbledore said. What a wonderful day this is! Why don't we let young Ronald here to his day off. I'm sure he has much to think about.  
  
Ron sighed with relief and Brian merely agreed (effusively) with Dumbledore and went to share his continual excitement with McGonagall. Dumbledore peaked over Ron's books with twinkling eyes.  
  
I'm under the impression you need a bit of air, Mr. Weasley? Dumbledore asked, ushering him to the door.  
  
Ron said. Thank you, Headmaster.  
  
You're welcome, Ron, Dumbledore said kindly. Your sister slipped out already. I believe your friends are cavorting outside somewhere.  
  
Ron thanked him again and exited out to the corridor. On automatic pilot, he ran his books back to his dorm and was stopped twice on his way there by a congratulatory Flitwich and a gushing Trelawney. On his way from Gryffindor Tower to the grounds outside he was even stopped by the Bloody Baron who was claiming to have known Biuerskefsky. By the time he was done talking politely to the ghost, passing a giant and very angry looking canary, Ron was trotting quickly to the main entrance. Ron pushed the front doors open and ran outside, stopping at the head of the stairs when the cool late autumn air hit his face.  
  
Life had changed.  
  
Being a telepath was one thing. But finding out you had the potential to be the most powerful telepath who ever lived was quite another. Ron was having trouble processing it all. He looked away to the lake where he could see four familiar Gryffindors. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bird flying over their heads and immediately realized it was the same bird he'd seen in the window. Ron watched it idly and took a deep breath. Brian had pointed out that telepaths often made powerful aurors. This opened up a whole new world. The bird soared low over Harry and the others and landed on a branch near Draco.  
  
Draco and Hermione.  
  
That was another thing. Ron sat down on the steps to think. He had never considered himself officially in love with ole Mione. And yet... there had been feelings. Warm squishy embarrassing feelings that Ron had kept well hid. He'd always fantasized about telling her in some grand romantic way or even better, for her to suddenly reveal that she had always been madly in love with him. And then he had settled on the idea that if he just had one thing that made him special, _worthy_ of Hermione, then he would tell her.   
  
Something like for instance being telepathic.  
  
And now just when he had something to use to prove himself, here came Draco.  
  
Typical.  
  
Ron sighed wistfully and glanced up to see the bird flying right towards him. It landed on the steps next to him and Ron raised his eyebrows.  
  
he said, feeling ridiculous. The bird sort of hopped up and down in reply. Ron reached into the pocket of his cloak and took out the remains of a blueberry muffin. He set the treat down on the steps. The bird ate it happily and then gazed calmly at Ron.  
  
My friend Hermione had a dream about you, Ron explained to the bird. The bird looked down. Are you an animagus? Ron asked. It blinked.   
  
If you're an animagus, Ron said slowly, then chirp at me.  
  
The bird responded by flying away and Ron sighed.  
  
Is that a no? Ron shouted after it.  
  
Harry called, trotting up the steps. Why didn't you come find us?  
  
Did you see the bird? Ron asked, standing up and needlessly dusting himself off. I think it's the one from Mione's dream.  
  
What bird? Harry said quickly. We've got to show you something! Draco and I! It's amazing!  
  
Ron followed Harry to the lake where Ginny, Hermione and Draco were sitting on the grass relaxing. Ron's eyes flitted to Hermione who was leaning back on her hands, sitting next to Draco. They weren't touching, but they were sitting close enough for it to be fairly obvious, at least to him. Ron stuck his hands in his pockets and tried to ignore his urge to sulk. It was tempting to read their minds and see exactly what they thought of each other, but Ron's first lesson (in between tests) had been that it was considered bad form to read a person's mind unless you had their permission or had just cause. Ron didn't suppose a schoolboy crush was considered just cause. Of course, one needed the ability to control input and Brian had gone through a short tutorial on how to block out unwanted thoughts. So far, Ron was still getting a lot of background noise from minds he didn't recognize but he found he was able to turn off familiar voices fairly easily.  
  
How was your training? Harry asked.  
  
Ron raised his eyebrows. You didn't sort of... hear about it?  
  
Harry just looked confused. Hear about it? No. Oh! Do you know about Lupin! I thought you might've heard me thinking about him! Lupin's back!  
  
Ron forgot all about his telepathy and grinned. Lupin! You're kidding! Is he teaching DADA? Are we rid of Gerkin?  
  
No, unfortunately, Harry explained as they came up to others and sat down on the grass. He's training us though.  
  
Draco said. Potter and I learned a few tricks.  
  
I wanted to wait til you got here to show everybody, Harry said.  
  
Draco drawled, Must wait for Weasley. Wouldn't want to break up the greatest love story never told.  
  
Hermione elbowed Draco who shrugged and grumbled,   
  
I told you! she hissed into his ear.  
  
What took you so long, Ron? Ginny asked. I thought your session was only an hour.  
  
Ron scratched his head and squinted. So you didn't see mom?  
  
Mom is here? Ginny shrieked.  
  
She was, Ron said.  
  
Ginny yipped, worriedly. What's wrong?  
  
What happened? Hermione demanded at the same time.  
  
Nothing bad, Ron assured them. It's just... well... no one told you?  
  
I've been in the greenhouses all morning, Ginny explained.  
  
Spit it out, Weasley, Draco sighed.  
  
It's nothing, Ron said. Nothing, really. Just that... well, they tested me for my Telepathic Quotient.  
  
You're T.Q.! Hermione cried. What is it, she asked. Is it over 90? That's above average. I shouldn't put out a number but if it's not, don't worry. Anything over 50 is respectable, she rambled. And even if it's not over 50 it's more then-  
  
It's 163, he said quietly.  
  
Ron flinched as his three friends (and Draco) gaped at him silently.  
  
You've got a T.Q. of 163? Draco, who knew enough to know that 163 was a miracle, asked.  
  
Um, yeah, Ron mumbled. I mean they checked it a few times and then whatsisname, the minister of Telepathy and Kinesis at the ministry checked it so... well, yeah.  
  
Ron, you'll be famous! Hermione squealed. That's the highest T.Q. ever!  
  
Yeah, well yeah, Ron said. laughing a little.  
  
Draco regarded the crimson faced Weasley. Hermione had just given him a quiet plea, hoping that he'd get to know Harry and anybody with the last name of Weasley enough to at least get along with them and leave the past behind. So Draco, for Hermione's sake and Hermione's sake only, drudged up all the goodwill for Weasley he could find.  
  
Who knew? Draco said simply, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets.  
  
Harry, Ginny and Hermione stared at Draco who made a face and stared at the ground. Hermione was inwardly very pleased but decided to spare Draco the awkwardness and turned to Harry, explaining to him what a T.Q. was. Ron rose an eyebrow and looked at Draco who was smirking in typical Draco fashion. Ron took the message, considering it permission and read his thoughts.  
  
_That's the closest thing to a compliment you're getting from me, Weasel._  
  
Ron shrugged and said aloud and just as dryly, I wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
Draco felt a tug on his arm and turned to see Hermione who was grinning from ear to ear. She pulled him over behind a bunch of tall bushes as Harry and Ginny congratulated Ron.  
  
Hermione said softly, making sure the other couldn't see them. You were almost nice to Ron!  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. I know, he sighed. Next you'll have me escorting elderly witches across roads and saving baby birds from their nests.  
  
Hermione laughed and Draco watched, adoring her in his mind, as she covered her mouth and scrunched up her nose. He reached up and set a stray curl behind her ear.  
  
And what exactly is so funny? He asked.  
  
She giggled and said, Only that you equate _not_ being insulting to being a saint.  
  
Draco fixed her with his seductive smoky gray eyes and continued to fidget with her hair.  
  
Well, you see, Hermione, he whispered. The Malfoys never had fine lines. You're either a rogue or you aren't.  
  
Hermione felt a delectable warmth spreading through her face as Draco flirted and touched her, brushing his knuckles along her ear.  
  
And are you a rogue? She asked with a quirk of her brow.   
  
he said, leaning in so that she could feel his breath on her cheek.  
  
She met his eyes and smirked. Well, I like nice men, she declared in a husky voice.  
  
I'm nice men, he said.  
  
No, you're not, she said, almost feeling the kiss already.   
  
He interrupted her with his lips and Hermione felt her knees go to jelly again. But Draco held her up, pulling her closer and nearly lifting her off the ground with his arms around her waist. Draco marveled at Hermione's kisses. Her lips were just slightly chapped and swollen and he knew he was only making it worse. She tasted like chocolate and she seemed to be forcing a long slow agonizing kiss that was starting to bring _him_ to his knees. In a mind-blowing way, it felt so good that it sort of hurt.  
  
Draco breathed hotly between kisses. I am a rogue.  
  
_I'll never get enough of her_... he thought desperately.  
  
Draco decided to show his appreciation by trying something new. He pulled away, hearing Hermione give a tiny little moan of displeasure. But when he leaned over and put his tongue just where her earlobe met her neck, Hermione let out an actual shriek.   
  
Draco couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. He cried, chuckling.  
  
Hermione was giggling and flapping about. I couldn't help it! she hissed. No one's ever done that before! It tickled!  
  
That Krum guy never tried it on you? Draco asked, still very much amused.  
  
Hermione quipped.  
  
Draco! Hermione? Harry's voice called from over the bushes.  
  
Draco and Hermione all but leapt apart automatically just as Harry appeared form around the corner.  
  
And you really must focus on-on-on- the uh the sempra tables or you'll never pass arithmancy! Hermione abruptly stuttered.  
  
Harry suppressed the urge to laugh. Who did they think they were kidding?  
  
Harry barked. Let's show em' the... thing.  
  
Draco ran a hand through his hair and nodded. The thing, he mumbled. Right. The thing. He turned to Hermione and grinned. There's a thing.  
  
There always is, Hermione said seriously.  
  
Hermione strode back to Ginny and Ron and sat down on the grass. Harry and Draco were grumbling at each other surveying the green field.   
  
Ginny nudged Hermione and fixed her with a knowing smile. I want details later, she said.  
  
About what? Hermione said, trying to sound innocent.  
  
Ginny just gave her a look and Hermione bit her lip, suppressing a smile.  
  
Draco pointed to a spot farther away from the castle and Harry nodded.  
  
Just stay right there and watch! Harry shouted. We're going to show you something!  
  
Ginny, Hermione and Ron watched Draco and Harry standing far down on the other end of the field. Suddenly Harry shouted, Alright, go!  
  
Harry and Draco started running and then Draco stuck out his palm, aiming his scar toward the sky. Bolts of purple lightening shot out of Harry's head and Draco's hand, shooting high over and far ahead of them. The two boys were yanked into the air and arms flailing seemed to travel in the exact path of the two bolts until they reached the point at which they met. There they hovered for just a second before they started falling to the ground. But as the ground came up to reach them, Draco put his hand out again and two more bolts appeared and this time anchored far ahead of them in the ground so that instead of coming straight down, Harry and Draco flew in the path of the bolts again and were able to come to a half-funning half-falling landing and rolled to a stop on the grass where their combined beams had made a small hole in the ground.  
  
Ron jumped to his feet and screamed, THAT IS THE COOLEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN!  
  
I call it bolt bounding! Harry shouted.  
  
Hermione, who had immediately recognized this as the flying that Harry and Draco had done in her dream, could only be awestruck and Ginny was jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Draco stood up with a groan but looked positively energized. He trotted back over to Hermione, dusting the grass off his jeans and tugging on his tight green t-shirt.  
  
You can fly, Hermione said, smiling. Just like in my dream.  
  
I guess it could come in useful for jumping on top of roofs, Draco said.  
  
I knew you could fly, Hermione said softly. Draco looked at her, seeing the sincere look in her eye and felt his heart throb distantly.  
  
  
And we can blow stuff up! Harry said with pride.  
  
Hey, remember that bird you dreamt about, Mione? Ron said as Draco and Hermione stepped apart so as not to arouse suspicion (or so they thought). Wasn't it black?  
  
Hermione said. With white tail feathers.  
  
Like that one? Draco said, pointing to the bird in question. He had followed Ron's gaze to a tree branch where the bird sat staring at all of them very curiously. The bird proceeded to fly from the branch and perched, to everyone's surprise, on Draco's shoulder. Draco frowned and shifted his eyes.  
  
he said stupidly.  
  
Ron felt inexplicably just a bit jealous and annoyed.   
  
Draco again.  
  
First Hermione and now the _bird_?!  
  
He wanted to say that this was hardly fair, that Hermione had dreamt that the bird landed on _his_ shoulder so what did this mean?? Draco didn't seem to know either.  
  
Wasn't there something in Divination class about black birds? Draco said rhetorically.   
  
said Harry. Welcome to the wonderful world of death omens.  
  
It's not a death omen! Hermione protested.  
  
The bird flew away from Draco and landed on Ron's shoulder to his great delight.  
  
How strange, Hermione said.  
  
I suppose if I'm going to die, Weasley, I mind as well take you with me, Draco said.  
  
Ron stuck his hands in his pockets and the bird didn't move.  
  
I think it's an animagus, Ron said. But it won't tell me.  
  
Um, Ron, said Ginny. You're talking to birds now?  
  
You think it's wise to keep strange pets? Harry pointed out. Your last animagus turned out to be a death eater.  
  
Draco looked alarmed.   
  
Hermione explained.  
  
You kept Pettigrew as a _pet_? Draco yipped.  
  
You didn't know about all that? Hermione asked.  
  
Apparently not, he answered.  
  
It's not evil, Ron said, trying to convince Harry. Sirius turned out alright and he's an animagus!  
  
Sirius _Black_? Draco asked incredulously.  
  
Hermione laughed. I'll catch you up, she said lightly.  
  
Ron smiled at the bird and then it flew away.  
  
I'm starving, Harry announced.  
  
Let's go see if the elves'll feed us, Ginny suggested.  
  
The five of them made their way back to the castle, babbling about their training and and bolt bounding versus free falling and the return of Lupin. They were making their through a corridor when from around a corner came McGonagall at a quick pace, holding a scroll and looking typically anxious.  
  
Mr. Malfoy! McGonagall called.  
  
Draco flinched and cleared his throat. What is it? he asked.  
  
McGonagall met them in the middle of the hall and fixed Draco with a worried face, handing him the scroll.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore gave me this letter to pass on to you. It is of the utmost urgency. It is from your mother.  
  
Draco took the scroll and frowned, mumbling his thanks and McGonagall left them. Draco and the others kept walking towards the Great Hall as Draco unfurled the scroll. Hermione watched as he held the scroll and began to read. She watched his eyes flitting back and forth until she saw his mouth drop open and he stopped short in the middle of the corridor. Draco looked completely shocked, shaking his head in confusion.  
  
Hermione said needlessly.  
  
Draco just stuffed the letter into Hermione's hands, and took off at a run down the corridor in the direction of Dumbledore's office. The others stood by as Hermione started to follow and then stopped, deciding she should know what he was upset about first. She unrolled the scroll and skimmed it quickly.  
  
Oh my God, Hermione breathed.  
  
Harry said urgently, what is it? What's wrong?  
  
Draco has a sister.  
  
*******************************************  
  
(GASP!)  
  
Review if you like! Review if you don't!


	9. Dabria and Draco

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin  
  
Chapter 8: Dabria and Draco  
A/N-Please Read:** NAME MEANINGS! Daimhin is Gaelic for Dabria is Latin for MLE Squad stands for Magical Law Enforcement Squad.   
Talk talk talk talktalktalktalktalk! All this dialogue! They never shut up. And as to this update after so long a time... well, I've been in school, what can I say? You can't rush greatness! Just look at Book 5!  
  
**Chapter 8: Dabria and Draco  
**  
_Dear Draco,   
Headmaster Dumbledore has told me of your new powers and I cannot tell you how proud I am. I know many things have changed for you and will continue to change.   
The time has come to tell you truths which have remained hidden since you were an infant. I was forced to keep secrets from your father but there is no reason anymore to deceive you.  
Long ago, when you were just a baby, a little girl was born. It was a time of great turmoil, when he-who-must-not-be-named was at his most powerful. This infant girl was taken away to Ireland so that she might not be raised under the evils of her father's teaching.  
This girl's name was Dabria Malfoy.  
She is your sister.  
You will want to speak with me. I will be waiting for you in Dumbledore's office when you receive this letter.  
With affection,   
your mother.  
  
_Hermione handed the letter to Harry and sighed.  
  
Hermione mumbled. Well... h e'll be talking to his mother. Let's go have lunch.  
  
Harry winced and rubbed at his forehead with one finger.  
  
What's wrong? Ginny asked.  
  
Feels weird, Harry said. Tense. Could be Malfoy. Anyway, let's eat. I'm starved.  
  
*************************************************  
  
What do you mean I have a _sister_?!   
  
Narcissa stood at the window of Dumbledore's sitting room off to the side of his office. Draco stood behind her, a table between them, fists clenched.   
  
Draco... she said simply. She turned and Draco saw the sorrow in her eyes and remembered the words of the letter. He took a deep breath and sat down at the table where Dumbledore had set out tea.  
  
Just tell me, he said, trying to sound calm. What happened?  
  
Narcissa sat and poured herself a cup of tea which she proceeded to only stare at. She stirred the tea slowly and reached back into her memory, trying to find the best place to start her story.  
  
To understand, she began, you must know what your father was like when I met him. When we were younger. We went to school here together. He was Slytherin and, you'll hardly believe it Draco, but I was in Gryffindor. It wasn't like it is now. A school always has rivalries, of course. But Slytherin got along much better with the other houses back then, before the time of the dark lord. I hardly noticed your father until my fourth year. Lucius was two years ahead of me... but he seemed much older. We were paired together for a special potions project...  
  
************************************************  
_Hogwarts  
November 1969  
_  
_And check and mate, Daimhin said victoriously.  
  
Narcissa glared at her best friend and threw a plaintive pawn.   
  
I think you cheat, she said.  
  
I don't need to cheat, he said haughtily. You're just a terrible chess player.  
  
he hmphed. Narcissa stood and smoothed down her robes. I've got to go anyway. More potions work with Lucius.  
  
Daimhin rolled his eyes. Malfoy again? He said, annoyed. I don't work with my potions mentor half as much as you do.  
  
Lucius studies hard, she said shrugging. He was almost head boy this year.  
  
Narcissa caught her reflection in a mirror by the fireplace and just as quickly looked away. She hated her appearance these days. She had always been a pointy featured, pale blue eyed girl with thin blonde hair though her mother claimed she would grow into a beautiful woman. This year was the worst ever. Her hair was a mossy color and fell in unpredictable curls. But it was so fine that it would not stay put in a pony tail. And she was too skinny, not having the curves she saw that many of the other girls had already developed. Narcissa sighed and pulled on her cloak.   
  
I don't trust him, Daimhin said pensively. I don't like him.  
  
You're just prejudice, Narcissa said, because he's in Slytherin.  
  
That's not why at all, Daimhin insisted. I have Slytherin friends. It's something else. He just seems a little... off. Somehow. And he's too proud. Don't tell me he's not. Just because he's from some rich old wizarding family.  
  
Narcissa crossed her arms and rose an eyebrow. A lot of perfectly nice people come from rich old wizarding families.  
  
Yes, Cissa, Daimhin said. But you're different.  
  
Narcissa stepped over to Daimhin and tousled his tawny brown hair. She didn't ask Daimhin why she was different. She knew why. The two had formed a thick friendship their first year. A perhaps unlikely alliance between Daimhin, a scrawny but spirited muggleborn and Narcissa, a shyly intelligent little witch of aristocratic pureblood parentage.  
  
I'd better go, Narcissa sighs. I don't think he likes it when I'm late.  
  
Has he said anything to you? Daimhin asked.  
  
Narcissa said laughing. He never says anything!  
  
She slipped her school bag over her shoulder and made her way out of the tower to the library. She'd been working with Lucius since the first week of school on a new program that paired younger students with sixth or seventh years. Lucius was intelligent and polite. But he was also quiet, cold and distant. She sensed a brooding intensity about him. But other then those small observations and the fact that he played as Chaser for Slytherin, Narcissa knew little else about him. In the library, she found him typically alone at a table by the window, white blonde head bowed over his potions textbook.  
  
Hi, Lucius, Narcissa said softly. She still felt awkward around him. He was so intimidating, a whole two years older then her and well out of the gawky pubescent phase in which she now found herself. Lucius was 16, tall and toned.  
  
We should start on aging potions today, Lucius said in greeting, still staring at his book.  
  
Narcissa was never surprised at his coldness. Lucius seemed to be a loner, except for a tightly knit small group of friends in Slytherin. He certainly wouldn't want to talk to some fourth year Gryffindor.  
  
she agreed, sitting down across from him. I did very well on the exam last week. Wollsten says I'm improving. I owe that to you, so thank you.  
  
Lucius merely grunted in response so Narcissa gave up and sat down across from him. Lucius handed her a list of terms to look up and the two worked in silence, Narcissa's eyes only on her work. They sat there silently for nearly an hour and Narcissa stopped for a moment, dropping her pen and massaging the crick out of her neck. She looked up to see Lucius staring at her from behind a curtain of almost silvery hair. His hard gray eyes bored into her imploringly. Narcissa gasped a little and then Lucius shot out of his chair, nearly knocking it over and grabbed his books.  
  
That's all for today, he mumbled, making a fast getaway.  
  
Narcissa sat there, stricken by the intensity of his gaze. She sat there for quite a while, thinking about Lucius.  
  
_******************************************************  
  
Was Daimhin your boyfriend? Draco asked. It was the only question he could bring himself to ask. Even though he had so many more. It had just occurred to him that he'd never heard this story and it struck him how little he knew about his parent's lives before his birth. They had never exactly been a family that sat around regaling their child with family stories.  
  
Narcissa did not speak and Draco looked up to see tears falling down her cheeks which she immediately endeavored to wipe away.  
  
she said. He was like a brother. And I loved him like a brother. He warned me about your father. And I should have listened, he'd always had very accurate instincts about people. He became an auror because of it. In the end, it was your father that ended our friendship. But in the beginning... in the beginning it was just two children in love.  
  
********************************************************  
  
_March 1970  
  
It was raining again. Which was rather irritating for a Saturday. Narcissa was wandering the castle as she often did when she felt restless and out of sorts, as she did now. In between classes and conversations and chess games with Daimhin and the other Gryffindors, there was Lucius. Ever since that look months ago, Narcissa had searched for a crack in the enigma of Lucius. He seemed to haunt her and she hardly knew why. She didn't want to have feelings for Lucius. She didn't even understand him. And besides that, he seemed to loath her. When she neared him to hand him a parchment, he backed away. When she looked at him, he looked away. From Narcissa's point of view, she was so despicable to him as to be untouchable.  
  
And yet, he would not leave her thoughts.  
  
She was standing idolly somewhere in an obscure wing of the castle when she felt the hand clamp over her mouth, a hand she could not see. And suddenly she was being pulled back by an invisible person. She screamed into the hand, and clawed at its fingers, eyes wide and was yanked into an empty classroom. The door slammed and she was pushed against the wall. The hand came off her mouth and her wrists were grasped painfully.  
  
No! No! Stop! Please! Narcissa cried, head spinning. Who are you?!  
  
She could only see the hands grasping hers and the oddity of the vision made her head swim. Two hovering hands seemingly attached to nothing, forcing her against the wall. She could only hear his breathing. She was sure it was a man.  
  
What do you want?! She cried, tears of fear falling. What do you want?!_  
  
_She heard a gruff and unrecognizable voice say,   
_   
_And she could not see it coming but she felt it soon enough. A pair of lips on hers that banged her head against the wall so that the kiss, her first kiss, was a painful and terrifying thing. In her fear, she tried to see a glimpse of his face, as his mouth was visible. But it was not enough. His lips were hard, as forceful as his hands and then his tongue thrust itself into her mouth. Narcissa struggled but he was much to strong for her and she wept into his mouth. Finally he pulled away and his grip on her weakened so that Narcissa was able to gain the upper hand for a moment. She took the opportunity to reach out for where she thought his head was and grasped at fabric under her fingers. She pushed back the hood of the invisibility cloak to reveal her attacker.  
  
She gasped, tears still sliding down to her now swollen lips. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She was so shocked and scared and felt so small. Lucius's eyes were wild, impassioned and lusting and then as fearful as hers. He pushed her away and stepped back without a word and then ran out the door, his floating head disappearing into the dark corridor.   
  
Narcissa remained in the classroom, hands shaking. She panted and hugged herself, sliding down to the floor.  
  
_***************************************************  
  
So you thought it would be a peachy idea to marry a git who attacked you when you were fourteen, Draco said, fidgeting with a spoon.  
  
Narcissa shook her head and took a long breath.  
  
she said. It wasn't really like that. Or maybe it was, and I should've known all along. But I confronted him. It took all the strength I had. And he told me he'd fallen in love with me. And he meant it. At least then. Then he meant it. And I fell in love with him too.  
  
Draco lay his head on the table. Why was she doing this to him? Making him try to feel for the man that he had killed? The man that had tried to kill him? His own father that had given himself over to evil? It was too much to process. But he knew she would go on and tell him their painful story. Because she had to.  
  
*************************************************  
  
_Hogwarts  
April 1973  
  
DARK WIZARD SUSPECTED IN MUGGLE SLAYINGS  
  
Cissa, listen to this, Daimhin said, a copy of The Daily Prophet in front of his face. Five muggles dead in two months. All killed by the avada... Cissa?  
  
Daimhin put down his paper to see that Narcissa was completely engrossed by a piece of parchment in her hands. Daimhin scowled.  
  
he said loudly.  
  
Her head snapped up.   
  
Another letter from Malfoy? he asked.  
  
she said, flushing. He's in Romania.  
  
Probably turning into a vampire, Daimhin grumbled.  
  
You didn't even try to like him, she protested.  
  
I did, Daimhin said. I tried to talk to him. He hates me. And damn it, I hate him too. Everyone can see what he's turning into, why can't you?!  
  
Daimhin, please... Narcissa sighed.  
  
Narcissa, he just stood there and watched Rochelle Peterson nearly drown in the water!  
  
That was two years ago! she shouted. Besides, he told me he doesn't know how to swim. He couldn't have helped her.  
  
Is that what he told you? Daimhin hissed. I can think of five spells off the top of my head that could've saved her easily and so can you.  
  
You don't know him!  
  
Cissa, he's dangerous! How many times do I have to tell you? Daimhin shouted, right there in the middle of the common room.  
  
Narcissa stood up and fixed her best friend with an icy glare.  
  
Look, Daimhin, she said. Just because you've got these little instincts does not make you psychic! And you don't know him like I do!  
  
Don't you read the paper? Daimhin said desperately, slamming The Daily Prophet onto the table. People are dying! Muggles and muggleborn! Being tortured for no reason at all! Something's going on, Cissa. Something horrible! You can't trust someone like Lucius! You know he's studied dark magic! You told me!_   
  
_You don't understand! Narcissa cried, trying not to get choked up. She sat down and took a deep breath.  
  
He what? Daimhin said.  
  
He met me in Hogsmeade last Saturday, Narcissa said softly. He asked me to marry him. And I said yes.  
  
Daimhin was too astonished to speak.  
  
said Narcissa, please, Daimhin. I care about you. More then you know. But I care about him too. I can't lose either one of you. I can't!  
  
You haven't lost me, Daimhin said softly. But the time may come when you will have to choose.  
  
Daimhin left her alone at the table, exiting the common room, cloak in hand. Narcissa swallowed and stared at her parchment. A moment later she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see a certain kindly smiling second year.   
  
Hi, Remus, Narcissa whispered.  
  
Hey, Cissa, Remus said, sitting across from her and feigning interest in the chessboard. Um... are you okay?  
  
I'm fine, Narcissa insisted. I just...  
  
I'm sorry, Remus said. We couldn't help but hear... I just wanted to make sure.  
  
Narcissa looked across the room to see Remus's friends, James, Lilly, Sirius and Peter talking animatedly in the corner.  
  
Thank you, Narcissa said. You're very sweet. But I'll be fine, she said firmly. Narcissa stood and with a final tight smile in Remus's direction she strode to her dorm room to be alone.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
_You knew Potter's parents back then? Draco asked, staring at a biscuit. And Lupin? I never knew that. But hell, I didn't know you were in Gryffindor. It's strange.  
  
They were very nice, Narcissa said. Wise beyond their years. I know Remus is here. It would be nice to see him again.  
  
When are you going to tell me about my sister? Draco demanded. What's her name? Did you really keep her a secret from fa- from Lucius?  
  
I'll get to that, Narcissa said slowly.   
  
And was he really studying the dark arts back then? Draco asked.  
  
she answered. I happened on him once out by the lake, reading things you can't even find in the restricted section of the library. Things you'd have trouble finding even on Knockturn. But he told me it was simple curiosity.  
  
Draco mumbled.  
  
We were married that summer, Narcissa said. After I graduated. You've seen the pictures. It was a lavish wedding. Absurdly so.  
  
Your parents liked him? Draco asked. Draco had met his mother's parents once. They were stiff and cold, a typical example of an old rich wizarding family. Draco had always suspected that his mother had not enjoyed the warmest of childhoods.  
  
Of course, she said, smiling just a little bitterly. He was rich and handsome. He had everything going for him.  
  
Narcissa stood and Draco watched her clasp her hands behind her back and turn to gaze outside at the late November day. Draco crossed his arms and lay his head down.  
  
He was restless, Narcissa said. After the excitement of the wedding,the honeymoon, moving into the manor... He drifted from occupation to occupation though he didn't need one. He was impatient. He'd always felt inferior, insecure... He wanted to be in charge of someone. He wanted a position of power. But his slide into the dark lord's inner circle was very gradual.  
  
I guess people don't just wake up one day and think, what a lovely morning, I think I'll help author the world's destruction', Draco said.  
  
Narcissa had to chuckle and Draco smiled to himself. So his father wanted to be in control, Draco thought. Well, it didn't take a genius to figure that out. But Draco considered the way his parents met. Lucius was Narcissa's potion's mentor and two years older, two years being a significant difference between a sixteen year-old and a fourteen year-old. Lucius had held a position of authority over her and it whetted his appetite for control. Gave him a taste. How easily it was worked out, Draco thought, wryly congratulating himself on his psychological insight. If only his mother had realized as much at eighteen.   
  
He began dabbling more heavily in the dark arts, Narcissa said, turning around. He claimed it was the stronger side. And I should've known then. I should've told Daimhin in the beginning. The very first time he...  
  
The first time he what? Draco asked.  
  
The cruciatus, Narcissa said softly. The first time he used it on me.  
  
The _first_ time?! Draco shouted, sitting up quickly. Draco had always known that his parent's marriage was not one made in heaven. He knew Lucius had been a horrible husband. He'd heard their fights, fights that always seemed to be about him. But if his mother had been the victim of the cruciatus she had hidden it well.  
  
When I questioned him. Or later when I... reproached him for the way he treated you or what he was teaching you, Narcissa explained. He didn't to it often, Draco.  
  
Oh, well in _that_ case.. Draco grumbled. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand the thought of it. Regardless of the image Narcissa had presented to the rest of the wizarding world, to Draco she was the closest thing to comfort he'd had at home. Lucius's hand was heavy and Draco was not often left alone with his mother. But when he was, he got an idea of what life would be like in a happy home and what his mother was like when Lucius wasn't around. The pain she had gone through... apparently even before he'd been born. He couldn't comprehend it.  
  
Look, mother... Draco said, why didn't you leave him? You were married years before I was born, why didn't you just get away when you saw what was happening?  
  
Narcissa shook her head. Daimhin hadn't understood it and neither did Draco.  
  
I thought I could save him, Narcissa whispered. Draco looked up in surprise. That thought hadn't quite occurred to him before. I saw what he was. That he was consciously turning to the dark arts. But I thought I could save him from it. I thought I could change him. I didn't know then about what the dark arts due to a human mind.  
  
What do you mean? Draco asked.  
  
Narcissa sat down again and held her cup of tea.   
  
They didn't teach this when I was a student in Defense Against the Dark Arts because there was no real threat back then. The dark lord was just starting to make himself known. I expect they'll teach you now. Perhaps in seventh year.  
  
Teach me what? Draco asked.  
  
Lucius started to practice the dark arts because he thought it was more powerful, Narcissa explained. And in a sense he was right. But dark magic is only more powerful upon the person who practices it. I'm not talking about simple hexes. I'm talking about the unforgivables. Curses. Magic that calls up the forces of evil. They produce a physical reaction, a high. And more then that, the force of dark magic takes a hold of your mind the more continually you practice it. It separates your heart from the forces of good.  
  
Draco listened intently. He'd never heard this explanation of dark arts psychology before. But it made sense. Draco had experienced it himself. He remembered that night on Grier's Mountain, killing both his father and another death eater with the _avada_ _kedavra_, a surge of something coursing through him. It was opposite in flavor to what he felt when he shot those mysterious lightening bolts out of his scars with Harry, which produced joy. Performing the _avada kedavra_ produced intense anger and hatred, even fear. But Draco had had little time to dwell on it before he was fleeing the scene.  
  
  
Once you've delved too deeply into dark magic, Narcissa continued, once you've reached a position of great power through it's use, such as that of a death eater... it is very hard to escape that mental hold. It takes a strong will.  
  
Has a death eater ever tried to leave the circle or a dark wizard tried to become good? Draco asked.  
  
Of course, Narcissa said. Tried and failed, most of them. They are either driven mad by the withdrawal or fall back into old habits.  
  
Do you mean that no one has ever escaped from dark magic? Draco asked incredulously.  
  
I do know of one man who escaped from the death eater's circle, Narcissa said wistfully. He taught you how to brew pepper-up your first year.  
  
Draco's mouth gaped open in astonishment and he almost dropped his tea spoon. Narcissa gazed off at a painting of a Horntail on Dumbledore's wall as she continued.  
  
Once your father tasted that dark power, he was hooked. Eventually he came to think of a life alongside the dark lord as a great opportunity, she said softly. And then... it was too late.  
  
*********************************************  
  
_Malfoy Manor  
August 1977  
  
Oh, Meryl, no! Narcissa gasped, gazing at the image of her young friend's face through the fire. Another five deaths?  
  
Meryl's worried face flickered in the flames as she nodded. These are dark times. And over each house is that horrible sign. A skull with a snake in it's mouth, she said, shivering.  
  
Narcissa sat back before her stately fireplace and put her head in her hands. I don't know what to think, she said mournfully.   
  
Narcissa had to reason to suspect as of late that Lucius was involving himself in some of these activities. He was often out the night before another nightmarish story broke in The Daily Prophet about mysterious hooded figures and muggle torture. Lucius's personality had also changed drastically in the last year. He displayed his rage and disgust openly, usually in her direction and the once common moments when she could reach the goodness she could still see in his heart were now few and far between.  
  
Have you heard from Daimhin lately? Meryl asked.  
  
Not for ages, Narcissa whispered, not mentioning that Lucius had forbidden her to talk to Daimhin. Off being an auror for the ministry, I suppose.  
  
I wouldn't count on it, Meryl said knowingly. Didn't you read that article in the Prophet last week? There's a lot of infighting in the ministry right now. Particularly in the MLE Squad. You know my sister's husband works in that department? Well, she says that he says that Daimhin and some of the other aurors are fed up with Crouch's policies. Something about using evil to fight evil.  
  
Narcissa was riveted until she heard the immense marble front door of Malfoy Manor close. Her heart leapt into her throat.  
  
she hissed. I've got to go! Lucius is home.  
  
Alright, Cissa, Meryl sighed. Please... be careful.  
  
I will, I will, Narcissa said all too easily. Meryl's face faded from the fire and Narcissa stood quickly, smoothing her robes. She rushed into the corridor to see Lucius stalking toward her.  
  
Lucius barked.  
  
Hello, dear, Narcissa said softly.  
  
Who have you been talking to? Lucius asked, scowling slightly.  
  
N-no one, Narcissa stuttered. Just Meryl. You know Meryl.  
  
That Bailey woman? I don't trust her, Lucius said gravely. Certainly not her husband. No. I don't want you talking to her anymore.  
  
Narcissa's heart sank. She'd once felt a certain amount of indignation at commandments like these. Now it just made her sad.  
  
But, Lucius... Narcissa said quietly, she's my friend.  
  
I don't want you to have friends like her, he said simply.  
  
First Daimhin... She sighed.  
  
Did I not forbid you from ever saying that name again? Lucius hissed.   
  
And I haven't till this day, Narcissa pointed out. But Lucius... why do you do this to me? Don't you know it hurts me?  
  
Lucius gripped Narcissa's arms in a fierce hold and glowered down at his wife. Can't you understand, Narcissa? I'm doing this for us!  
  
The anger that Narcissa had buried away suddenly came rising to the surface. His nights away from home, the fear she saw all around her that she could not deny Lucius was at least apart of, and there was something else...  
  
Narcissa shook herself from his grasp. For us? Are you killing innocent people for us too? She demanded. Tell me the truth, Lucius!  
  
Lucius responded with a backhanded slap across her face. Do not question me!  
  
Narcissa stumbled back and held a hand to her cheek, tears welling up. I've seen that mark on your arm, Lucius! Did you think you could hide it forever?  
  
I'm warning you, Narcissa...  
  
It's the same mark that's been seen in the sky.  
  
  
  
What've you done, Lucius? Narcissa pleaded. Who have you killed? I know what you're doing and I know it's not who you are!  
  
Do NOT question me!  
  
Whatever it is, I can forgive-  
  
  
  
_*****************************************************  
  
Why didn't you leave him then? Draco couldn't help asking again.   
  
I tried to once, Narcissa admitted. But he found me and put me under the imperius.  
  
Draco's breath caught in his throat. What did he have? Draco asked. A death eater's check list of the unforgivables?  
  
He started putting me under the imperius for short periods of time when I showed resistance, Narcissa said. But finally I just gave in to his wishes. I decided that to be forced to stay with my mind free was still better then having no control at all. And that was about the time he insisted on producing on heir.  
  
That would be me, Draco muttered grimly.  
  
An heir is important to any death eater. A male heir is a status symbol, even an instrument of power. It means you are, presumably, bringing the Dark Lord another recruit, Narcissa explained. We had complications at first. We had to talk to healers about fertility spells, which are very complex. It took a couple of years. But then there you were.  
  
Draco sat back in his chair and stared at a spot on the table. His mother took another sip of tea and cradled the cup in her hands.  
  
The day you were born... His mother said nostalgically. It was a good day. Lucius was in a good mood. He was so overjoyed that you were a boy... And I held you... small and pink.  
  
Yes, yes, Draco said cringing. Babies often are.  
  
And once you were born, Lucius knew I would never leave without you, Narcissa said.  
  
Draco could hardly bear it and clenched his fists. As far as he could tell his very existence was the cause of his mother's suffering for the last sixteen years.   
  
But his mother seemed to read his mind and said, I don't want you think any of this is your fault.  
  
Draco glanced up at his mother but couldn't bear see her eyes. Narcissa reached out for his hand.  
  
You gave me hope, Draco, his mother said.  
  
_I_ gave you hope? Draco said incredulously.  
  
Even when you were an infant and your father was already trying to brainwash you to the dark arts... I whispered love into your ear. I hoped always that you would choose differently. And you have.  
  
A little too differently, Draco mumbled. They were quiet as his mother clutched his hand. Mother, did you love him when... when he died.   
  
Draco didn't know why he was seeking this pain. If she said yes, that meant that he, Draco, had murdered someone that his mother loved.  
  
I loved who he was, Narcissa said. Not who he became.  
  
Draco nodded and took a swallow of now cold tea. Now he could see his past for what it was. He saw his father's continuing words of hate as his mother watched over him with pleading eyes. He could see the conflict of his mother wanting to protect him and not being able to, and at the same time not being able to reach out to him, so afraid was she that he would turn on her too. He could see this but he knew she wouldn't say it because she didn't want to hurt him.  
  
Narcissa took a deep breath and continued to speak. I had you. And Lucius was happy because he had his heir. Things got a little better. I had more freedom because he knew I would never leave you alone with him. But it was a very dangerous time. The Dark Lord was everywhere. People were dyeing everywhere. And then... not long after you were born, I got pregnant again. I didn't tell your father. But I went to see a healer and she told me it would be a girl. This was disaster. Lucius never wanted a daughter. And I knew how a daughter would be treated in Malfoy Manor. A little girl would be better off dead then under the hand of Lucius. There are death eaters who are women, of course. But they have a much rougher time of it then men. Whereas a son might have a choice, a daughter would be thought of as more of a slave. I couldn't do that to her. But I couldn't bear to do away with her either_. _So I hid the pregnancy for as long as I could. About six months. Finally, just after your first birthday, I had to get away to have the child. I told your father I was visiting my aunt in Eastern Europe. I used to go there as a girl and I convinced him that I missed it, that I wanted to spend a few months there. He was already suspicious. He made me leave you at home as a form of security. But I didn't go to my aunt. I visited an old friend to ask of him the greatest favor anyone can ask of a person...  
  
************************************************  
  
_The winds of Kerry blew the rain so hard that it fell sideways, stinging Narcissa's face. Because it was such a dangerous time and it seemed to everyone as if the eyes of the Dark Lord were everywhere, Narcissa had taken mostly muggle trains all the way from the magical outskirts of London to the south most tip of Ireland, on the Bearra Peninsula. If anyone who knew Lucius had seen her traveling in the opposite direction of Eastern Europe, she could've counted herself as good as dead. But once she reached a village outside of Killarney, Narcissa had had to turn to magic transportation in the form of a horseless carriage.  
The two story stone house sat away from the road up near the edge of a cliff overlooking the angry Celtic Sea. Narcissa barely had time to grab her bags out of the carriage before they took off again down the road, bumping over rocks and back into the storm. Narcissa pulled the hood of her cloak low over her eyes and trudged with her baggage up the long stone pathway to the front door. Her heart beat like the thunder over her head. She had been so scared over the last few days, terrified that Lucius would find out too quickly that she wasn't at her aunt's house and worse, that he would find out where she really was. Narcissa stepped up to the front door finally and tapped with a metal knocker in the shape of a lion's head. She heard a faint voice say, from beyond the door and shivered as she waited in the rain, staring out the ground under hem of her hood.   
  
Narcissa heard the door open and a heard a voice say, Hel... lo...  
  
Narcissa lifted her head, tears in her eyes and said, Hello, Daimhin.  
  
**********************************************_  
  
I stayed with Daimhin for three months until the baby was born, Narcissa went on. He was amazing. All I had to say was that I was in trouble and it didn't matter that I hadn't seen him in years... He was there for me. Those few months were the happiest I'd seen since my days at Hogwarts, if only you'd been there. Finally, the girl was born in October. We named her Dabria. I couldn't afford to stay any longer. And I didn't want to. I was afraid of loving Dabria too much and being tempted to stay or take her back home with me. So I went back to Lucius, who had long since found out I had not visited my aunt but unable to find me, was certain that I would return. He punished me greatly for my lie. But he never found out the real truth. I managed to convince him that I had really intended to leave but missed you too much.  
  
A thought occurred to Draco. He never tried anything like Veritaserum? He asked.  
  
My smart son, Narcissa said with a little smile. Well, he believed me when I came back. I suppose he didn't think it necessary. But Daimhin had performed several very complex and, I must say, painful spells on my mind which protected from releasing certain information even under pain of Veritaserum. He tried it years later because of some argument and I told him other things, but never about Dabria.  
  
Draco sat back and took a deep breath. So Dabria is my sister, he said simply.  
  
said Narcissa. I went home to face Lucius and come back to you. And about a week later, Voldemort was defeated. Things changed again. And for the last fifteen years, Dabria has been raised by one of the ministry's most skilled aurors, Daimhin Forsythe, as if she were his own daughter. I was able to find bits of information about her when possible. And once Voldemort was defeated, it was much less dangerous.  
  
And has she ever been told the truth? Draco asked.  
  
Daimhin told her when she was a child, Narcissa said, nodding. She had to be told that her father was dangerous for her own protection. So that she could know who to run from if he ever did find out.  
  
And now that... that Lucius is dead, Draco said with difficulty, Dabria is coming here?  
  
Narcissa bit her lip and Draco saw her forcing herself to control her emotions.  
  
It's not just that, Narcissa whispered. Daimhin died too.  
  
********************************************  
TO BE CONTINUED!!!! (like no, i was gonna leave it there)_  
  
  
  
  
  
_


	10. The Invisible Door

  
  
**Sympathy for the Slytherin  
**  
**Chapter 9: The Invisible Door  
**  
**A/N: ** I've given the wizarding world an alternative press. Go progress! So I'm nowhere even near to being halfway done, which is daunting. And now I'm wasting my time riding on the bus thinking, I wander what Draco should wear to the Borgie Ball... which won't be for another few chapters anyway. Sigh. BRIT SLANG: You guys probably know this, but a is a or, I suppose, a cute girl more specifically. Maybe it means a girl friend. I'm not sure actually. Something like that.  
  
**Remembrall**: Draco killed his father, angst and more angst, Hermione's his tutor, he's in Gryffindor now, they're a couple. Ron's a powerful telepath, Ginny's great with potions (she's with Harry), Draco's a , Hermione's a dream prophetess, Harry and Draco can shoot push/pull lasers out of their respective scars. A strange bird is following Ron around. Erumpets and cocoanuts are in the Forbidden Forest. Lupin's back. And, oh yeah, Draco has a sister who's guardian (Narcissa's old Hogwarts friend) just died. That _about_ covers it.  
  
**Chapter 9: The Invisible Door  
**  
Hermione's foot was tapping impatiently under a table in the common room. Her knee jiggled causing the table to vibrate slightly as she shuffled a deck of Exploding Snap cards. She wasn't paying attention to her hands as Harry explained in depth what he and Ron had seen in Dumbledore's pensieve. Ron wasn't completely listening. He eyed Hermione nervously from across the table, biting his lip. Hermione had a habit of using the Snap cards haphazardly. Ron's eyes went wide as she absentmindedly cut the cards and started to shuffle them into a bridge.  
  
It was some kind of invisible door but-   
  
Hermione, wait!  
  
_WAM!  
  
_The cards exploded in Hermione's hands and the girl coughed, waving the cloud of black smoke away as Ron and Harry sat forward in their chairs. The smoke cleared and the boys saw Hermione frown down at a pile of ashes and blackened card fragments.  
  
Another ruined Snap deck, Ron said dourly.  
  
I thought they were supposed to explode, Hermione said, still coughing.  
  
You always say that, Ron said. They can't all explode at the same time, that's why you can't do a bridge thingy. I keep telling you.  
  
Hermione mumbled, sweeping the ashes into a dustbin. Anyway, so a short person in a black cloak popped out of an invisible door and broke the Frozen Flame in two...  
  
But one of the death eater's stole a half, Harry said.  
  
said Ron, and the Mystery Man tossed the other half through the invisible door and then popped back in himself and disappeared.  
  
An invisible door... Hermione said skeptically.  
  
Whoever it was, Harry said, Dumbledore saw him. And he looked shocked.  
  
So, Dumbledore knows who has it, said Hermione. One half of it anyway. And a death eater's got the other half...  
  
So it's not exactly lost, Ron said. Dumbledore knows whose got it.  
  
Yeah, whoever took it must've been a good guy, Harry said.  
  
But someone Dumbledore wasn't expecting, Ron said. Maybe it's some other bad guy we don't even know about.  
  
Harry looked horror stricken. Don't say that.  
  
Maybe not, Ron said quickly.  
  
A house elf? Hermione suggested.  
  
They gave her looks. A house elf? Harry asked.  
  
You said he was short, Hermione said. Hermione leaned back in her chair and stared idly over her head. Her brow gradually furrowed as she realized there was a trail of footprints along the common room ceiling.  
  
_What the bloody..._  
  
Not that short, Ron said, interrupting her thoughts. Besides that, he had a wand. Elves don't need wands.  
  
Thing is that, we don't even know what the Frozen Flame _is_, Harry said, exasperated.  
  
Yipped Hermione and then said quite casually, It's a plague.  
  
Ha! I knew it made me people sick! Ron said triumphantly. But just as quickly he said in a low voice, What kind of plague?  
  
said Hermione, once released it would destroy every muggle on the planet.  
  
said Ron with false brightness, so we're fine then.  
  
said Harry, no worries.  
  
A door slammed shut in the direction of the girls dormitories and Ginny appeared trotting down the stairs, a newspaper under her arm, having changed her clothes for the second time that day.   
  
What's going on? She asked, taking a seat next to Harry.  
  
Tribulation, world apocalypse, the usual, said Harry, reaching a hand up to play with his girlfriend's curly red ponytail.  
  
Are you sure it was an invisible door? Hermione asked. Maybe he touched a port key and you missed it.  
  
It wasn't a port key, Ron said firmly.  
  
Invisibility cloak? She asked.  
  
said Ron, frustrated. The movement was... you didn't see it. It wasn't a cloak. Trust me.  
  
Invisible door... Hermione murmured. Sounds suspect.  
  
Ginny put her newspaper on the table and began to leaf through it. Hermione frowned. It was not _The Daily Telegraph_.  
  
Hey, what's that, Ginny? She asked. Is that the-  
  
The Weekly, Ginny said, nodding. _Magic's Independent Weekly._ Have you seen it?  
  
Started up last year, didn't it? Hermione asked, eyes eager to look.  
  
What's that? Ron muttered absently.  
  
It's a _bit_ different from the _Telegraph_, Ginny said smiling.  
  
Ginny pushed the paper across the table to Hermione who took time to examine it. It was a large magazine style newspaper. The glossy cover had a color glossy picture of an annoyed Cornelius Fudge. One of the headline titles read:  
  
CORNELIUS FUDGES ON LARGER DE INVESTIGATION  
  
The Cornelius Fudge in the picture kept crossing his arms impatiently and shaking his head.  
  
Other articles were things like:  
  
MUGGLE RELATIONS SYMPOSIUM SET FOR SPRING  
  
and,   
  
HUNT CONTINUES FOR KILLER OF NOTED AUROR  
  
Hermione said.   
  
Ginny agreed. It's got some pretty radical views. Ideally it proposes that someday the wizarding and muggle world should be able to fully communicate. All together in the same world.  
  
Harry said, awed at the very idea.  
  
Dad loves this paper, Ginny said.  
  
I don't see why, Ron grumbled. It doesn't even have a sports page.  
  
The door to the common room opened and their heads whipped around to see Draco saunter in the room, looking pensive. He sat down in a chair in front of the fireplace. Hermione noted this. If he were really upset, he would've gone straight to his dorm.  
  
It would appear that I have a sister, Draco declared.  
  
said Harry, Hermione showed us the um...  
  
Draco nodded but continued staring straight ahead. He wasn't _completely_ comfortable with this group dynamic thing yet, but he supposed he'd have to get used to it if he was going to be with Hermione. And if he had some kind of with Harry. And Ron could read his mind if he really wanted to anyway. There was one new worry that was now plaguing his mind that he hoped Ron did not feel obliged to uncover or expose.  
  
Ever since his mother had described to him his father's descent into the legion of death eaters, Draco couldn't help but obsess about the effects of dark magic. On the one hand, Dumbledore had told him that men make choices. That his father had chosen evil, while Draco had rebelled and chosen to do good. But, Draco thought, if the dark arts took a hold of your mind, where then did choice stand? Was there a point his father had reached where, even he had wanted to escape, he couldn't? But Snape _had_ escaped. What did that mean? He also couldn't help but think about all his own dabbling in the dark arts. His father had taught him the cruciatus. For , he said. And that night on Grier's Mountain, Draco had spoke the _avada kedavra_ twice. So what if that dark magic still had some kind of hold over him? And what if he found himself using dark magic again and choice went out the window?  
  
Finally, he turned his head to look at them. He had to put this aside for the moment. He certainly didn't want to talk about it to anyone but Hermione anyway. And he didn't want to worry her right now. They all had so much to think about.  
  
Her name is Dabria, he said, pushing away his philosophical brooding. She's fifteen.  
  
Hermione cried. And you never knew about her?  
  
Mother managed to hide her away when she was born to protect her from Lucius... and from me, I suppose, he explained. But she'll be coming here in a while, now that Lucius is out of the picture.  
  
So who raised her? Hermione asked.  
  
An old friend of my mother's, Draco said. Daimhin Forsythe, an auror.  
  
Daimhin Forsythe... Ginny said, turning the pages of the _Magic's Independent Weekly_, Wait a minute, that's the auror who was murdered a few weeks ago!  
  
Oh, no, Hermione said sadly.  
  
That's right, said Draco. Dumbledore thinks it was a retaliation killing for Grier's Mountain. Forsythe was there that night.  
  
That poor girl, said Ginny.  
  
Yeh, that sucks, Ron said.  
  
After Forsythe was killed, she was taken to Auror Camp for her safety, until my mother got her back through Dumbledore just a few days ago, Draco explained.  
  
Lupin must know her, Harry said idly. And Sirius.  
  
You're going to have to explain this Sirius business with me, Potter, Draco said. I was under the impression he was an escaped killer?  
  
Good Merlin! Ginny cried. All this explaining takes so much time! Should we start a newsletter or something?  
  
Hermione chuckled. she said with a smirk. And Draco doesn't even know about the guy in the cloak and the invisible door.  
  
Draco frowned. Who's the guy in the cloak?  
  
***************************************************  
  
The sun was out and there was a cool breeze in the air following a long talk in the common room. Hermione tugged a little on her t-shirt. She was dressed in jeans and her wand was secure in a wand-holder attachment that was all the rage for witches when it was too hot to wear a cloak. Draco's wand was stuck in his back pocket.  
  
said Draco irritably, is what Slytherines like to call a fool's errand.  
  
You're a Gryffindor, Hermione said smugly.  
  
You can take the boy out of Slytherin, Draco said, but you can't take the Slytherin out of the boy.  
  
The two were making their way to the Forbidden Forest following a quick lunch.   
  
There's an explanation for that erumpet, Hermione insisted. And I want to know what it is.  
  
Hi, guys, Harry said breathlessly, trotting up next to them. So what's this about?   
  
I thought you should be here in case there's another erumpet incident, Hermione said. I want to find out why it was there.  
  
Sounds like a fool's errand, he said.  
  
Hermione smirked at Draco who looked slightly put out. Harry trotted beside them but Draco leaned over as they walked to whisper in Hermione's ear. She shivered with pleasure when his lips grazed her ear lobe.  
  
If he's here, he breathed, we can't snog! And then what's the point of going to the forest?  
  
We're not going to snog, she whispered back, and then said cheekily, We can snog later in the library.  
  
Draco sighed, clenching his jaw. I really picked the right girl.  
  
They heard an annoyed huff and Harry started walking backwards in front of them.  
  
Snog. Don't snog, Harry said. You guys aren't fooling anybody, you know.  
  
Hermione blushed and Draco brightened. He'd been annoyed by this implied secrecy anyway.  
  
Alright then, he said, promptly grabbing Hermione by the waist and dipping her backwards in a kiss. Hermione gave a brief of shocked protest.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and made his way quickly to the forest. I've got to watch what I say around him, he mumbled.  
  
Draco ended the kiss and stood Hermione upright. He grinned in his typically devilish way. Hermione decided it was about time to toy with the Almighty Sexual Confidence of Draco Malfoy and didn't meet his eyes, instead primly straightening her robes as she walked, as if nothing had happened. Draco followed and waited for her to see his cocky grin as she needlessly brushed herself off and refused to smile. Hermione could see his smile fade out of the corner of her eye.  
  
Hey... you're not mad, are you? He asked with a forlorn little-boy-lost expression.  
  
Hermione's mouth twitched in amusement. She hoped this couldn't be considered malice. She had to do _something_ to take him down just a notch. Finally she gazed up at him and her stern expression collapsed into laughter.  
  
Draco stuttered and then said incredulously,   
  
Hermione sang, Dra-cey's insecuuuure!  
  
I am not! He exclaimed, the last word ending shrilly.  
  
They entered the Forbidden Forest and she continued to mercilessly tease him.  
  
Dra-cey's insecuuure!  
  
Alright, you femme fatale, Draco said, you say Dra-cey's insecure' one more time and I'll never do that thing to your ear again.  
  
Hermione didn't believe him for a moment but decided to play along.  
  
Dra-cey fears rejectiooon!  
  
Draco replied loudly and indignantly as Hermione caught up with Harry.  
  
So, what are we actually looking for? Harry asked.  
  
I dunno, Hermione admitted. Something unusual.  
  
********************************************************  
Ron tiptoed into the common room and past his sister who had several vials and cauldrons containing various bubbling and fizzing substances spread out onto a large table in a corner by the window. His right hand, inside his cloak, gripped a tiny bottle of Fly potion filched from Ginny's dormitory. His left hand held his broom, a Cleansweep 9 (with carrying strap attachment). Ron snuck past the fellow redhead who seemed very invested in her work and out into the corridor. He couldn't help but jog to the castle's entrance, so excited was he about the prospect of both free falling _and_ trying out Fly potion. A few minutes later he stood just outside of Gryffindor Tower, fingering his bottle of Fly potion. Of course, he could easily have flown on his Cleansweep to the tower's peak.   
  
But where would the fun be in that?  
  
So, feeling reckless because a teacher could appear at any time, Ron chugged the entire bottle of Fly potion. He felt a quiver shiver down his back and suddenly his feet felt just a little heavier. Ron slug his broomstick over his shoulder and gazed at the immense stone wall in front of him.  
  
Here goes nothing, he said with a sigh.  
  
Ron put a foot experimentally onto the wall in front of him. Sure enough it stuck, and he tentatively pulled his other foot up and took a step up the side of the tower. And another step... and another...  
  
  
  
******************************************************  
  
Draco, Hermione and Harry poked around the forest searching for the exact spot where the erumpet had appeared. They proceeded to find a few more cocoanuts which made Draco ask Hermione what had been so funny the other night.  
  
Hermione said. The cocoanut thing. It's from this movie. _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_. She turned to Harry. You've seen it, haven't you, Harry?  
  
Harry mumbled. What is it?  
  
she said, frustrated. They're a British comedy troop. Monty Python! You've never seen that show? Harry looked blank. Dead parrot? Ministry of Silly Walks? Brave Sir Robin?  
  
Harry rose an eyebrow,Do the Dursleys strike you as having any kind of a sense of humor? Add to that, I think I've touched their remote control exactly twice in my entire life.  
  
Hey, what's this? Draco said rhetorically. They had gone deeper into the forest, Hermione periodically conjuring levitating arrows to point their way back. Conjuring another such arrow, she looked over to see Draco picking a piece of paper up off the ground.  
  
What is it? Harry said. They stepped closer to Draco who held a corner of a larger piece of paper. It wasn't parchment. Instead, it looked like a piece of a modern map. Definitely muggle, Hermione thought, judging from the utilitarian straight lines and heavy red curves that denoted muggle highways.  
  
It's a map. A muggle map, Hermione said, bring her lit wand closer. She read street names from the bit of map since the city name was nowhere visible, Olive...Victory... San Fernando... Well, this is definitely not England. Looks like America. Draco turned the piece of paper over to reveal more map on the other side.   
  
Draco read. Where the devil is Burbank?  
  
California, I think, Hermione said uncertainly.  
  
Draco ran his finger along the edges of the map, it had little squares cut into it and was a bit frayed.  
  
It's from a spiral binding, Hermione explained for him.  
  
You're pretty good at this, detective, Harry said, grinning. Shall we dust for fingerprints?  
  
Draco handed the bit of map to Hermione and examined the ground for further clues. Near the foot of a tree he saw a flash of white and bent to pick up an empty paper cup with a plastic lid and a straw stuck in it. The cup read, in red writing with a yellow zigzag.   
  
I found something else, Draco announced. It's a uh... whattaye call it? Fast food?  
  
Harry went to investigate and promptly slipped, falling hard on his rear end. Under his back he felt something cold and slimy and sat up, pulling the thing from beneath him.  
  
Um... Hermione? Harry said. Hermione turned to see Harry holding a very dead orange fish by the end of it's tail. I think this qualifies as unusual. There's no way this got out of the lake by itself. I don't even think this is _from_ the lake.  
  
And a fast food cup... Hermione said, frowning.  
  
Whatever this is, said Draco, it's certainly littering up the place.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Ron was slowly stomping his way up the side of Gryffindor Tower and carefully avoiding windows anywhere near the common room or McGonagall's office. Ron was trying not to think about everything on his proverbial plate. _Telepathy Today_ had already sent an owl asking if he was available for an interview in three days after his classes. Ron sent an owl back and said he supposed that was okay. He had no idea what he was going to say. His thoughts were interrupted by the now familiar vision of the black bird with white tail feathers. It was hovering over him, holding itself upside down so that it could look in his face.  
  
  
Ron said brightly. He felt silly at being so happy to see the bird. It was just a bird after all.  
  
The bird chirped at him. Ron decided to chat with the little thing. It was the only creature he knew that wasn't concerned about plagues and dark lords and strange new powers.  
  
Ron said casually to the bird, what's a bird like you doing in a place like this? Ron chuckled to himself and took another step. See, that's funny because girls are birds... and you're a bird so... Yeh,it's kinda funny.  
  
If birds could raise eyebrows...  
  
said Ron, as he trudged up the tower, rambling to the bird, I shouldn't talk to you really. For all I know you're an animagus spy. I've had trouble with those before. I can't read your mind though. But maybe telepaths can't read animagus' minds... I don't know. Ron shrugged and said, Oh yeah, so I'm telepathic. This magazine, _Telepathy Today_ wants to interview me. I don't know what I'm going to say. It's weird.  
  
Ron assumed the bird wanted to know why it was weird.  
  
I used to watch everybody pay attention to Harry... But now I'm getting a bit of an idea what it's like to be him.  
  
The bird looked at him questioningly.  
  
It's... It's the expectation! Ron said. That's what it is. They expect something of me now. Like they expect something of Harry. But I don't know what it is. And I don't want to disappoint anyone. You know?  
  
Finally, Ron reached the top of Gryffindor Tower. His feet still sticking to the roof, Ron swiveled around so he was facing the ground and took out his wand. He conjured a net above the ground that could catch him and then dropped the Fly potion bottle, watching it softly bounce off the net.  
  
Thank you, _Standard Book of Spells_, Ron said.  
  
After all, free falling was extremely dangerous and he had never done it before. And unlike Draco at the top of Astronomy Tower, he had no death wish.  
  
Maybe I don't need it, Ron said, grinning at the bird, which was still flitting about his head. If I fall, _you_ could catch me. Ron chuckled to himself and took his broom from over his shoulder. See, girls are birds and you're a bird so... yeah.  
  
Ron held the broom in one hand and stared down at the ground. The net was transparent and therefore a matter of faith. A quote occurred to him. He had no idea who'd said it originally. It was something Hermione had been babbling about once last year in one of her Ron-you-should-really-be-working-harder lectures.  
  
Ron mumbled. Mione kept saying something about faith or... having faith in yourself? I dunno. He was stalling for time. The bird seemed to sense it. I... have faith that the net will catch me!  
  
Ron stood on precipice of the tower, ready to drop his broom and jump.  
  
Alright then, Ron muttered. Here goes nothing.  
  
Ron dropped his broom and stepped off the tower.   
  
But the fall happened so fast and the sensation of falling was so overpowering that Ron forgot all about the broom as he tumbled head over foot, seemingly plummeting to his death. By the time he remembered to grab the stick and flailed wildly for it in the air, he hit the net, which turned to be more like a trampoline.  
  
_BOUNCE._  
  
  
  
_BOUNCE.  
  
_  
  
_BOUNCE.  
  
_  
  
_BOUNCE.  
  
_Ron felt like he'd been bouncing for ten minutes by the time managed to come to a rest, his broom a few feet away. He appeared to be levitating above the ground on his transparent net, as he stared at the sky. The bird perched on his chest and looked a little apologetic.  
  
Ron said breathlessly, I thought I would fall slower.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Hermione and Draco were considering the question of the fish, the map and the soda cup.  
  
What _does_ this mean? Harry said, primarily asking Hermione since this was her little investigation. It looks like muggles have been gallivanting around the Forest or something. But how would they get here? And why are they bringing dead fish?  
  
I don't know, Hermione said softly, holding the map in one hand and her wand in the other. She idly strolled around and stepped near a shrub with red leaves.  
  
Then she disappeared.  
  
Draco shouted, seeing his girlfriend suddenly vanish into thin air.  
  
Harry said, looking up from his inspection of the dead fish.  
  
She's gone!  
  
**********************************************************  
  
With one step Hermione found herself suddenly surrounded not by the Forbidden Forest but by sand and wooden columns. Hermione audibly yelped in shock but stepped no further. She looked around without moving from her spot. She was underneath a huge pier, standing on sand. It looked like early morning. To the east, the sky had just risen and it glinted off the water. Beyond the barnacle covered wooden columns that stretched to the end of the long pier, she could see the ocean. To each side of her she could see through to the open beach where a few muggle adults were jogging along the shore. Behind her she could see what looked like a city beyond the sand. Hermione squinted at a few building that looked like flats. A few cars drove back and forth in front of them.   
  
_How on earth is this possible_? Hermione wondered. _How did I get out of the forest?_  
  
The thought did occur to her that the bit of map was actually a port key that took a while to kick in. But Hermione dismissed it as another notion that made her widen her eyes.  
  
_...So a short person in a black cloak popped out of an invisible door...  
  
_An invisible door!  
  
******************************************************  
  
Meanwhile Draco was lunging for the spot where Hermione had disappeared before Harry grabbed him by the arm.  
  
Malfoy, wait!  
  
Draco tried to shake him off. Leggo, Potter!  
  
Harry shouted. I think it's an invisible door she's walked through!  
  
Draco turned around and eyed Harry as if he'd just said that Pansy Parkinson was playing for the Chuddley Cannons.  
  
A _what_? He said shrilly.  
  
I told you... Harry said, the invisible door on Grier's Mountain? Maybe it's the same thing.  
  
Maybe she touched a port key, Draco mumbled.  
  
Wait, look, Harry said. He tossed the dead fish to the spot where Hermione had vanished. It disappeared.  
  
*****************************************************  
  
Hermione yelped when the dead fish smacked her right in the face as she was trying to figure out just where the invisible door began and ended. It appeared to start right next to that particularly over barnacled wooded column. She reached her hand out toward where the dead fish had come from and saw it disappear so that it looked as if her hand had been cut off at the wrist. She braced herself against the column and stuck her head where her hand had been. Immediately she saw not the beach, but the Forbidden Forest and Draco and Harry looking alarmed.  
  
There's no need to throw fish, She said wryly.  
  
*******************************************************  
  
Draco raised his eyebrows as the fish disappeared. A second later a hand appeared in mid-air, clearly Hermione's.  
  
Draco said. He'd been half afraid that she'd been sucked into some kind of vortex.  
  
A second later her head appeared, a good naturedly annoyed look on her face.   
  
There's no need to throw fish.  
  
Well, that was Potter, Draco said smoothly. I would never do such a thing.  
  
Is it an invisible door? Harry asked.  
  
Hermione said excitedly. Just a second!  
  
Hermione disappeared again. A few moments later her whole body appeared through the door.  
  
What was on the other side? Draco asked.  
  
A beach, Hermione replied. In fact, it was probably California. Underneath a big pier. I marked a wooden posty thing so you can find it from the other side. I should mark this shrub too.  
  
She proceeded to several of the leaves on the shrub yellow with her wand, hoping it looked inconspicuous if you weren't looking for it.  
  
So I think I was wrong, Hermione said. Apparently there are invisible doors. Maybe there was one on Grier's Mountain.  
  
Hermione mulled over this as Harry found other evidence of transported debris' from the invisible door.  
  
This still doesn't explain the Erumpet, Harry pointed out. Assuming that door leads to California... They don't have Erumpets, do they?  
  
Draco walked around the shrub, carefully avoiding the invisible door. Hermione watched him walk between two apprehensive Flutterby bushes.  
  
Draco started to say, I wonder if there are any-  
  
And then he disappeared.  
  
There's another one! Hermione said in surprise.   
  
****************************************************   
  
More. Ow! Draco finished his sentence as he walked through another invisible door and fell. Apparently the other side of this door was just about a foot off the ground so that Draco had stepped into air and then fell onto the suddenly dry dirt below.  
  
That was rude, he grumbled to himself.   
  
Draco stood and dusted himself off and looked up into two large black eyes. Draco started but the big eyes remained calm. He found himself staring at the face of a large kebra which was chewing on some dry grass. The kebra (which was basically a zebra with rainbow colored stripes and a very nice singing voice) regarded him with only mild interest and then walked away to the rest of the herd. Draco watched the beautiful colors of his stripes ripple in the sun. He looked around and in the distance saw several erumpets sleeping by a stream. Draco turned around to find the door again, reaching out his hand. His hand started to disappear and he yelped when he felt another hand touch it. Hermione stuck her head through the door and grinned.  
  
I would say this explains the Erumpet, Draco said.  
  
********************************************************  
  
Ginny was murmuring to herself. And...   
  
Ginny couldn't even bring herself to whisper the word. She had a theory. If she was right and it worked, she just might be looking at a sizable grant from the Herbs and Potions Association, a huge award for someone so young. Ginny stirred the asphodel into her simmering cauldron.  
  
Voxious potion. Voxius potion was _supposed_ to allow a person to imitate someone else's voice. Complex sure but considering the success of Polyjuice, for example, surely Voxious shouldn't have confounded potions masters for generations.   
  
Yet it had. Voxious was unpredictable. There was no real guarantee of how long you would be able to imitate the voice of the person and often your voice would crack badly. There were whole books written about the famous Problem of Voxious. Ginny had read them all. She'd considered her work with Voxius as a pure hobby. She was too much modest to ever consider that she, little Ginny Weasley, would solve Voxious at fifteen.  
  
Yet through her intensive study of muggle plants and potions she'd seen that the majority of muggle plants and herbs were largely ignored by wizard scholarship, even though a lot of them were thought to contain small amounts of magical properties.  
  
And... tabasco, she whispered, with a quirk of her lip.   
  
What Voxious needed was a little spice. Peppers were an intriguing ingredient. When they burned your mouth they were actually creating all kinds of energy. And tabasco peppers had the highest concentration of magical energy of any muggle pepper. Ginny had analyzed and examined and experimented, but it was the strong gut feeling she had that was telling her this would work.  
  
Ginny uncorked a large vial of pure liquified tabasco pepper and poured it into the bubbling soup. The concoction reacted quickly,fizzing and foaming over the rim of the cauldron.  
  
That should do it... Ginny muttered. She picked up a pair of vial gripper, picked up an empty vial and dunked it into the cauldron, filling it up. She wiped the excess potion dripping down the sides. The stuff was orangey red and looked a little like tomato juice. Ginny held the vial in her hand, it was warm to the touch. Ginny did the same with another vial and slipped both into the pocket of her cloak.  
  
Snape would be down in the dungeons. Ginny made her way down there quickly, butterflies in her stomach at the thought of what she might just have accomplished. She was skipping by the time she found him in his office. He looked up, eyebrows raised. Ginny had become the only student who was not met with a glare.  
  
Miss Weasley? he said hopefully.  
  
Ginny said, breathless. I think I've solved it.  
  
Snape's eyes got big as Ginny slipped one of the vials out of her pocket and handed it to him.  
  
Have you tested it? he asked.  
  
No, not yet, she said, shaking her head. I thought you might want look at it first.  
  
Thank you, Snape said, taking the vial and looking at it in wonder. Well, you have my permission to test it. Be careful. If it works, let me know. But first write out a full account of the results. You've been keeping a journal of your experiments, have you not?  
  
Ginny nodded. Snape had given her a long lecture on the importance of documentation.  
  
Snape said. If it works, duplicate all the journal entries related to the Voxious, all your writings, instructions and send that with a sample to the HPA.  
  
Yes, professor, Ginny said obediently.  
  
Ginny exited his office and stood just outside the door. She uncorked the other vial of Voxious from her pocket and took a large sip of it quickly, before she could think twice about it. Her eyes bulged as the red stuff hit her tongue. It wasn't hot... it was FIRE. But Ginny swallowed it, trying hard not to make a sound and squeezing her eyes shut. She felt as if something had exploded in her mouth as she salivated reflexively, her eyes watering. She opened her mouth and waved her hand in front of it, uselessly attempting to cool it down. Her throat felt like it had been replaced by a hot poker. But Ginny didn't want this to go to waste. She corked the vial and stuck it in her pocket. Immediately she turned around and opened Snape's door again and stuck her head into his office.  
  
Was there something else, Miss Weasley? Snape asked automatically as he unpacked piles of notes about the Voxious.  
  
Ginny's mouth hung open slightly as he spoke. Snape looked up questioningly and Ginny just shrugged, shut her mouth and left his office again. She made her way as quickly as she could out of the dungeons and back toward Gryffindor Tower. She stopped in an empty corridor and looked around carefully to make sure nobody was around.  
  
Ginny opened her mouth and said experimentally, Fifty points from Slytherin!  
  
Her eyes widened in amazement as she heard Snape's angry voice issue from her own lips. She clapped a hand to her mouth and started giggling uncontrollably, only to hear Snape's voice giggling instead. It sounded very odd and it only made her laugh harder. Ginny shut her mouth tightly and ran as fast as she could toward the Gryffindor Tower.  
  
Ginny knew exactly what her dear brother had been doing as she mixed the Voxious. She even knew that he had filched the Fly potion and she had planned a delectable idea for getting him back should the Voxious work.   
  
When Ginny got back to the Tower she ran straight to her dorm and leaned out the window. She couldn't see anything, but she was sure she could hear her brother muttering. She rushed out of her room to her brother's dorm and leaned out of his window. She had just enough time to pull her head back inside as Ron went flailing past her and grabbed his falling broom just before he seemed to bounce off of something. Ginny's heart fell to the floor before she could think, until she saw him sit up and roll off of what was apparently a net. She also saw that he was being followed by that strange bird. She watched him grumble and pick up his broom, slinging it over his shoulder and make his way back to the entrance. The bird flew away.  
  
Ginny fled from the dorm, out of the Tower and toward the front doors of Hogwarts. She rounded a corner just in time to see the front door open and a flash of red hair and she hid behind a large statue in a dark corner. Just as Ron started to walk in the opposite direction, Ginny shouted at him.  
  
RONALD WEASLEY! Snape's voice boomed through Ginny's little lips.  
  
Ron went spastic for a moment, his eyes wide as he spun around.  
  
FREE FALLING IS _AGAINST_ SCHOOL RULES! REPORT TO MACGONAGALL'S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY! ONE HUNDRED POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!   
  
Ginny shut her mouth and watched Ron. He was looking around wildly. He was completely freaked.  
  
But Pro-  
  
DO NOT TALK BACK TO ME! I DON'T CARE HOW INCREDIBLY BRILLIANT YOUR SISTER IS, _RONNIEKINS_! YOU MAY BE FACING EXPULSION FOR THIS!  
  
Ron gasped, wheeled around and all but sprinted toward MacGonagall's office. Probably to attempt to explain himself before Snape showed up.   
  
When he was gone, Ginny collapsed in a fit of Snapey laughs which eventually cracked into much higher pitched Ginny giggles.  
  
It wasn't until Ron had left MacGonagall's office after waiting for a supposedly angry Snape who never showed up until MacGonagall sent him on his way, that it occurred to Ron.  
  
_Wait a minute... Why did Snape call me Ronniekins?_  
  
********************************************************  
  
Draco, Harry and Hermione found one more door before they returned to the common room. The third had led to a grassy moor that Hermione suspected was Scotland.  
  
This still doesn't explain the cocoanuts, Draco said as they made their way back to the front steps.  
  
Draco glanced at Hermione and saw her stifling a laugh.  
  
They... they could be carried, Hermione said, just as she busted up into giggles.  
  
Draco just frowned and said,   
  
Hermione stopped laughing and said very seriously, By a swallow.  
  
What- a swallow carrying a cocoanut? Harry asked, looking at her as if she were quite insane.  
  
It could grip it by the husk, she said, laughing again.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and said, Are you doing that movie again?  
  
Hermione nodded and held her stomach as she laughed breathlessly.  
  
You're a looney, Draco said simply.  
  
Hermione collapsed onto the grass and started to turn purple. Draco was a bit concerned. She didn't appear to be breathing, she was laughing so hard.  
  
Hermione said brokenly, but... a scratch!  
  
Draco and Harry exchanged annoyed looks and walked on as Hermione rolled helplessly around on the grass.  
  
Has she always been this daft? Draco asked Harry.  
  
Harry said, almost apologetically. We thought you knew.  
  
The two made their way up the stairs and into the front corridor only to see none other then Virginia Weasley in hysterics, lying on her stomach and pounding the marble floor with her fists.  
  
Harry and Draco exchanged looks of horror.  
  
Yours _too_? Draco asked incredulously.  
  
Maybe it's hormones, Harry muttered.  
  
Draco said rhetorically.  
  
You know... the uh... Harry drew a circle in the air with his finger and mouthed the word   
  
Draco raised his head in understanding and then grimaced.  
  
Oh, Lord... he muttered, going a bit pale.  
  
WHERE'S MY SISTER?!  
  
Harry and Draco whipped around to see a much aggravated Ron, his face red enough to match his hair.  
  
Draco smirked and said to Harry,   
  
Ron shouted dramatically, pointing at his sister who was still writhing on the floor.  
  
Ginny looked up and pointed back at Ron, his face only making her shriek madly and laugh harder.   
  
Eventually Hermione and Ginny collected themselves and the five made it up the common room, Ron still shaking his fist and grumbling something about Ginny taking advantage of him _not_ taking advantage of his telepathy and making fratricidal threats.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
Hermione sat at her desk in her prefect's bedroom, reading the book that had appeared in the library a couple of days ago and frowning and thinking about the mystery person in the black cloak and the invisible door. She sighed and sat back in her chair, gazing outside and listening to music, a rock album her parents had sent her as a gift. Draco was flying, though it was well after curfew. She stood and went to the window, searching for him in the night sky. Soon enough she spotted him, zipping around on his Firebolt. He was flying around in jeans without his shirt on, without even shoes. Hermione smiled and opened her large windows. The cold wind blew her hair back and made her shiver beneath her white cotton nightgown. She sat on top of her desk and waited for Draco to accept her invitation. Soon enough she saw him soaring nearer the tower and then he flew easily through her window, ducking his head and coming to a soft landing on the carpet. Hermione stayed planted on her desk, swinging her feet. Draco dropped his broom and turned to face her.  
  
Breaking rules again, prefect? he asked, panting. Letting me in at this time of night?  
  
Hermione eyed him up and down. He stood there shirtless and barefoot, face flushed from the cold, shaggy hair hanging over his wide blue-grey eyes.  
  
He looked good enough to eat, she thought. Or lick up and down for that matter. This music wasn't helping to abate her appetite. The electric guitar was slow and seductive, the vocalist's voice strong and sexy.  
  
_It's quite possible that I'm your third man, girl,  
but it's a fact that I'm your seventh son..._  
  
He walked up to her and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
You're insane, you know, she said before he could speak. Flying half naked at this time of night.  
  
Draco shrugged and smirked his patented smirk.   
  
It's invigorating, he said simply. Makes you feel alive.  
  
Hermione nodded and watched as Draco started to hear the music.  
  
Wow, what's playing? he asked.  
  
My parents sent it to me, Hermione said. They're called The White Stripes.  
  
Draco said.  
  
Yes, I agree, Hermione said, her eyes just a little glassy with desire.  
  
I suppose I should go, Draco said with a sigh. Before your prefect self is suspended for having said half naked boy in her room. But thanks for opening your window. The dolts in my dorm closed mine.  
  
  
_Let's have a ball and biscuit, sugar,  
And take our sweet little time about it...  
_  
Draco started to turn but Hermione reached out and grabbed his broom, tossing it aside and taking his hand, yanking him back to her seat at the desk, a devious smirk on her lips. Draco, surprised, let himself be pulled back and stood in front of her, her knees on either side of his hips.  
  
Draco Malfoy, she said. Lover boy extraordinaire walks out of a girl's bedroom in the middle of the night without so much as a goodnight kiss?  
  
Draco rose an eyebrow and grinned.   
  
Granger, I'm shocked. Thought you'd rush me out of here after that detention and all.  
  
Hermione pulled Draco closer.   
  
Not bloody likely, she whispered.   
  
_Let's have a ball and biscuit, sugar,  
And take our sweet little time about it..._  
  
You want me to stay a while? he asked hopefully.  
  
Why do you think I opened my window, genius?  
  
Draco said, grinning.  
  
She felt his hands and shook her head.   
  
You're cold. You're freezing.  
  
Draco leaned in and kissed her softly.   
  
You're warm, he said in reply.  
  
Hermione rubbed his cold shoulders, trying to warm up his skin.  
  
You bring out the devil in me, she said playfully.  
  
he said. You bring out the saint in me.  
  
That's efficient, she breathed, kissing him again and bring her hands around to his back.  
  
_Let's have a ball and biscuit, sugar,  
And take our sweet little time about it..._  
  
The guitar solo seemed to mimic Hermione's feelings exactly as she rubbed Draco's back and his tongue slid into her mouth. Draco put his hands around her ankles. He slid her nightgown up her legs, making her moan a little and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks and then just let his slips slide from her eye down to her mouth, almost painfully.   
  
What was this thing, Hermione thought wildly, that was both painful and wonderful? Maddening and inevitable and electric...  
  
And then all thought left her as Draco covered her mouth with his again, one hand on her thigh, the other tangled in her hair. Eventually the two managed to separate their lips, warming each other with hard hot breaths. Hermione rested her forehead against Draco's and clasped her hands around his neck, her eyes falling shut. Draco sighed pleasurably.  
  
Hermione suddenly felt nervous and couldn't think of anything to say except,This song is sexy.  
  
You're sexier, Draco breathed, brushing his knuckles along her neck.  
  
Hermione shivered a little and opened her eyes to see Draco's other hand fiddling with the hem of her nightgown.  
  
I haven't even asked you how you are, Hermione whispered, too shy to recognize the compliment. I just started snogging you immediately, what a bad girlfriend I am.  
  
Trust me, Hermione, Draco said, chuckling huskily, that does not make you a _bad_ girlfriend.  
  
Seriously though, Hermione said. You've had a rather complicated day. How was it talking to your mother?  
  
Oh, it wasn't so bad, Draco said softly. Of course, it's weird that I have a sister.  
  
Yes, it is, Hermione said, giggling. You're a classic only child.  
  
You're an only child too, Draco protested. Aren't you?  
  
Hermione said loftily. But I'm excessively mature for an only child. And Harry's an only child too but he certainly wasn't raised like one.  
  
Potter schmotter, Draco growled. I'm not kissing Potter.  
  
We're getting off the subject at hand, Hermione pointed out. You seemed bothered when you came back from Dumbledore's office...  
  
Draco marveled at her sensitivity. He took a deep breath and thought a moment before explaining.  
  
Dumbledore told me that what matters is choice, he said slowly. He said everyone has a choice of whether they do good or evil.  
  
Of course, Hermione said softly, nodding.  
  
said Draco, my mother said that when a person practices the dark arts, it starts to take a hold of their mind, like an addiction. That's what happened to my father. It even separates you from the ability to do good.  
  
That's true, Hermione said, having read that much in the more advanced DADA textbooks she'd managed to find.  
  
Then how is there a choice? Draco said passionately. She said that once somebody goes as far as becoming a death eater, it's nearly impossible to escape it mentally. No one ever has... except for Snape.  
  
That's right, Snape did, Hermione said. She knew that much about Snape. You still have a choice, she said. It's not like the imperius. It's a struggle, it's a fight. But doing the right thing is always a struggle, Draco. It's never easy. That's usually how you can tell what the right thing is. It's more difficult then the wrong thing.  
  
Draco still looked bothered and Hermione ran a hand through his soft white blond hair.  
  
Hey, what is it? she asked. What are you afraid of?  
  
It's just that... Draco sighed. I've done my share of the dark arts. I was taught to. I killed two people that night. It was in defense but... It was an unforgivable curse...  
  
Oh, Draco... Hermione whispered, squeezing his shoulder. It has no power over you.  
  
How do you know? he asked.  
  
You'd be aware of it if it did, she said wisely. You'd want it too much. But you've broken away from all of that. You know what it is to fight. And you're strong.  
  
Draco looked into Hermione's eyes and saw nothing but the truth.  
  
I just don't want to hurt you, he admitted. Ever. I've done enough to hurt you.   
  
Hermione could hardly breathe, she was so touched. She slid her hands down his arms and smiled at him.  
  
You won't hurt me, she whispered.  
  
How do you know? he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
she said, who's the dream prophetess here?  
  
Draco finally cracked a smile but Hermione could tell he had been very serious. She suspected that if he ever thought he was hurting her or was going to hurt her, he might just go jump off a cliff, minus the broom.  
  
Draco leaned in to kiss her again and Hermione's eyes slipped shut.  
  
That song's funny, Draco said when they broke apart. I am your third man.  
  
Hermione smirked devilishly and said,Play your cards right and you might be my first too.  
  
Prefect, you vixen! Draco said with a wide grin, his eyes dancing.  
  
Shut up, blondie, Hermione cracked, pulling him forward again.  
  
********************************************************   
  
Draco lay on his bed atop the covers, the cool night breeze from the window ruffling his bed curtains. He rested his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. He'd taken some dreamless sleep potion but he found his brain was still a little wired from the whole strange day and his activities with Hermione. He closed his eyes and thought about her eyes and her laugh and her whisper and her lips.  
  
he breathed. Her... my only.  
  
*******************TBC************************************  
-Thanks you so much for your reviews! You guys rock!  
_  
_  
  



	11. More Ways to Fly

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**Sympathy for the Slytherin**

**Chapter 10: More Ways to Fly**

**Author's Notes:** Okay, I admit it's been a bit of a wait for a new chapter. Um... hi again.

**Chapter 10: More Ways to Fly**

"Hello, " the girl said softly. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Dabria Malfoy."

Dabria frowned at the mirror. It just didn't sound right. It didn't seem to matter how many times she's said it.

"Dabria Malfoy," she said with a bit more confidence. "Excellent to make your acquaintance."

She cleared her throat.

_Excellent to make your acquaintance? He's my brother, not my banker._

"Nice to meet you! I'm Dabria Forsythe." That name sounded so much more normal to her ears.

"Hi there, I'm Dabria Forsythe Malfoy. Great to meet you!"

That was somewhat acceptable. Dabria regarded her reflection. Her waist-length hair, pulled back into a long velvety rope of a braid, would've been the pale blonde of a Malfoy if she had not charmed it black. She'd told herself since the age of twelve, that it was a very necessary disguise. The less Malfoy-like she appeared, the better. Just in case her real father caught wind of her existence. Yet she had not charmed her eyes a different color. They were, of course, the stormy gray of a Malfoy. Unmistakable.

Dabria fidgeted with her simple brown cloak and surveyed her temporary home. It was an enchanted tent on the outskirts of Auror Camp. It was simple, rather small for a tent that could've been huge on the inside. A small bed, a mirror and sink... Her trunk doubled as a bookshelf. Stacked atop it were titles like _Defensive Measures for the Modern Wizard_ and _MI Weekly_. There was a lantern- the same sort that could be found in every tent on the grounds. It glowed red if some danger was felt near the camp and blue as a call for assembly. There was not much else. No fancy trimmings. But that's how aurors generally lived. Humbly. It was how Daimhin had kept his house. Modest, but not austere. Warm and cozy. Outside she could hear the familiar shouts of dueling drills and the laughter and constant chatter of young aurors, taking a break from their training. She had come to love these sounds in her few weeks of staying here, since the death of Daimhin.

Dabria felt a sensation like coldness in her heart, which she had come to know well in the last few weeks. As if there were an actual hole in her soul and gusts of wind and rain were blowing through it. She felt tears welling up. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The grief of Daimhin's death was still fresh. Her adopted father- the only family she'd ever known. And now he was gone. Not just gone. Assassinated.

The pain of his absence washed over her and a small white cloud appeared around her legs. Dabria thought of Daimhin's warm laugh as they sat in front of the fire in his cottage on the cliffs of Kerry. The cloud expanded and became a fog that spread throughout the tent, until Dabria couldn't see the mirror in front of her.

"Oh dear," she said faintly.

Dabria shook her head and swallowed, clearing her head. She concentrated for a moment and the fog dissipated. She wouldn't think about that now. There were too many other things to worry about anyway- hopefully without creating changes in the weather as a result of her emotional tie to magic.

There was her new family, for one. Or her old family, to be exact. She had met her real mother, Narcissa Malfoy, a few days ago. It had been an awkwardly formal and short meeting. She wasn't sure what her mother expected of her. Or what she should expect of her mother. There was the matter of her brother. A boy she knew nothing about. And then Hogwarts...

Dabria sighed.

"Buck up, soldier!" Dabria's mirror said suddenly. "There's always darkness before dawn!"

Dabria ignored the mirror but regarded her reflection again.

"Hi," she said softly. "I'm Dabria."

There. That sounded fine. She'd decide the surname situation later.

"Knock, knock," a familiar voice called from outside her tent.

"Come in!" Dabria replied, already feeling better at the sound of a friend.

Dabria took off her brown cloak and put a muggle-style hooded sweatshirt on over the blouse and britches she'd taken to wearing, which were the current trend amongst women aurors. She glanced into the mirror again and saw a smiling Remus Lupin enter her tent. Dabria gathered her strength and put on a smile for her old friend.

"Hello, Loopy!" She greeted him.

Lupin grimaced which made Dabria smile more."You know, " he said, "should you find me on Hogwarts grounds, I would appreciate it if you would not call me Loopy in front of other students."

Dabria considered this and furrowed her brow. "I see. How about Uncle Loopy?"

"How about Mr.Lupin?"

"Not a chance," Dabria snarked.

"The Great Sir Lupin?"

"Even less of a chance, " Dabria said. "How about Looney Moony?"

Lupin rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms, pretending to be angry. "I _was_ going to ask if you were up for some dueling, but if you're going to be difficult..."

Dabria grinned and hopped up and down, "No, no Great Sir Lupin! I'll be good!"

"I seriously doubt that, " Lupin said wryly.

She grabbed her wand and followed him outside and into the bright sunlight and the noisy din of the auror camp's city of tents.

Dabria sighed in contentment. In the communal atmosphere of the auror camp, with Remus Lupin by her side, Dabria felt almost relaxed. Dabria had known Lupin for as long as she could remember, and had always thought of him as a sort of uncle. He had often visited Daimhin's house- on important business, or just to be sociable, as the two were close friends.

Dabria looked up at Lupin who was fidgeting with his hair.

"Do you think I need a haircut?" He asked suddenly.

"Absolutely not," Dabria said sternly. "Why are you asking? You never worry about that sort of thing."

"When we met up with your mother... I don't know. I felt disheveled. Unkempt. Thought perhaps it was time for a trim. Or at least a shave."

"Don't you dare!" Dabria gasped dramatically. "You aren't in the least unkempt. You're completely... kempt! Girls love the shaggy look. And the stubble. Girls love the stubble. Especially on an adventurous fighter of the dark arts!"

"Dabria, what would I do without you?" Lupin said with a sigh.

"You would flail helplessly in the sea of life," Dabria said wisely.

Lupin chuckled as the neared a dueling area- a small clearing of green grass within the camp. Dabria smiled but the question she had been meaning to ask Lupin was pinging around in her mind as she tapped her wand against her leg, unknowingly sending sparks into the grass which singed a few blades and annihilated an ant or two.

"Um, so Great Sir Lupin? Oh wonderful King Remus of all things...you know... magical and...kingly?"

Lupin turned and narrowed his eyes, "Dabria... you have that tone in your voice."

Dabria's mouth dropped open in mock surprise. "Tone! What tone? I have no tone."

"You most certainly do," he said. "It's the same tone you used when you crashed my broom into your chimney for the fifth time... in one visit."

"Hey," Dabria yipped. "You should've been glad that I wasn't hurt! Besides, I couldn't very well fly Daimhin's broom, it was impossible to control." Her voice became wistful. "And he wouldn't let me have one of my own..."

Lupin smiled sadly at the grief-stricken girl. "He was protective," Remus said softly.

"Yes," Dabria agreed. She shook her head and let out a breath. "Anyway! I wanted to ask you...

"Uh oh..."

"I know I'm supposed to start Hogwarts tomorrow..."

"Dabria..."

"And it's not that I'm not utterly _thrilled_ to start school with hundreds of strangers when I've never had a day of school in my life..."

"Dabria Forsythe..."

"But what if I delayed it..."

"Oh dear..."

"A little longer."

"You know I'm not in control of that," Lupin said.

Dabria sat down on the grass and fiddled with her wand. "I'm going to be a sixth year, you know."

"I know," Lupin said, nodding.

"What if I fall behind? I mean Daimhin was always a wonderful teacher but what if I'm not advanced enough?"

"You're plenty advanced," Lupin argued, sitting down across from her.

"Well, sure on the practical side of things. I can battle a boggart or two. But I'm not particularly brilliant with the book learning."

"You'll do fine."

"Well, what if I did just one more fly around?" The girl pleaded. She batted her hands as if they were wings. "You know...tweet tweet?"

Lupin smiled kindly and Dabria played her wand between her fingers, guessing the answer to her question.

She leaned back on her hands and squinted as the sun shone down.

"What's my brother like?" She asked abruptly.

Lupin registered surprise and took a deep breath, as if trying to summon a description from the very air.

"Your brother..." He repeated. "Draco Malfoy..."

"Yes, that _is_ his name," Dabria said.

"Draco..." Lupin said again. "Well, he's... how should I put this?"

Dabria studied Lupin's troubled expression and her fragile smile collapsed.

"Oh dear," she murmured.

"No, no!" Lupin said quickly. "He's not that bad. Really!"

"Not _that_ bad?" Dabria shrieked.

"He's changed! Recently. Quite a lot."

"Changed!" Dabria said, suddenly feeling panicky. "What was he before? What was he like when you taught him at Hogwarts?"

"Well," Lupin said tentatively, "he used to have a tendency to be a bit..."

"Mean," Dabria finished for him. "He's mean, isn't he? You're saying he's mean."

"Abrasive," Lupin suggested.

"Cruel," Dabria accused of the boy she had not yet met.

"Cunning!" Lupin substituted.

"Abrasive and cunning," Dabria said. "And that's your _favorable_ opinion of him? Oh brilliant, that's just brilliant. My brother is Salazar Slytherin."

"Oh, Dabria, he's not that bad. You really shouldn't form an opinion of him until you've met him."

"Fair enough," Dabria said. "But if I don't like him, I might just pretend that Harry Potter's my brother. I _know_ you like him."

Lupin thought for a moment and then said, "But Dabria, did you not see him there on one of your last visits? You know...tweet tweet?"

Dabria blushed violently and a flocky of tiny pink butterflies suddenly erupted out of the ground.

"Dabria!" Lupin said, rather startled but used to her frequent magical outbursts.

"Oh," Dabria breathed. "Well, yes I saw him. He was doing that purple lightning bolt thing with Harry Potter that you told me about. He was with his friends. They thought I was a death omen!"

"That's interesting," Lupin conceded. "Alright, what else did you see?"

"Nothing!" Dabria said quickly, still blushing. "Nobody!"

The butterflies flew in a circle around Dabria's head until she disappeared them with a flick of her wrist.

"Whatever you say," Lupin said with a chuckle.

The two sat in silence for a few moments. Dabria tried to calm herself, but her anxiety over her very _first_ first day of school was causing the lush green grass around her to grow at an accelerated rate which Lupin had not noticed as he was staring off into the trees, thinking over the Malfoy-Potter scar connection. Dabria did not even try to quell her feelings as the grass grew into huge blades, right over her head, completely hiding her from view.

"Um...Remus?" Dabria whimpered. "Couldn't I just delay a bit longer?"

Remus Lupin turned his head and sighed heavily at the sight of the grass covered young witch.

"Oh Dabria..."

He parted the thick blades of grass, which had become quite a jungle, until he finally found Dabria resting her chin on her hands, her expression a fearful pout.

"Don't wanna go."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The five Gryffindors were eating lunch in the Great Hall.

"You're out of your gourd, Weasley," Draco groaned with a shake of his head.

Hermione swallowed her pumpkin juice, her eyes still on her arithmancy book, and said casually,"Don't be mean to Ron."

"I'm not talking to Ron, I'm talking to the other one," Draco corrected her.

"That would be Ginny," The youngest Weasley said with a roll of her eyes. "And I am not out of my gourd."

"Yes, she is," Ron said, around a mouthful of sandwich. "That's one thing we can agree on, Malfoy."

"Ron, Malfoy, don't be mean to my girlfriend," Harry warned, putting a protective arm around Ginny.

"You heard him," Ginny said haughtily. "That's The Boy Who Lived talking. I wouldn't argue, if you know what's good for you."

"Alright then," Draco said with a dramatic sigh. "Ron, you're out of your gourd."

Hermione burst into giggles.

"Hey!" Ron said, choking on his lunch. "I was agreeing with you!"

"That's hardly the point," Draco said with a shrug.

"I'm not saying," Ginny said, attempting to be calm, "that Muggles and Wizards are going to live together in a a fantastic utopian paradise _tomorrow_. I'm just saying that in times such as these, a progressive view can be-"

"The Muggle world would be nothing but detrimental to the Wizarding world," Draco said firmly.

"Oh, _that's _why I had to listen to a twenty minute lecture on The Beatles' transitionary period yesterday," Hermione pointed out wisely.

"Well, music doesn't count!" Draco was incredulous. "Or...clothes. So I want my v-neck and my 'Abbey Road.' But full integration? I don't think so!"

"You only think that 'cause you're eeeeevil," Hermione said in a singsong.

"I'm not evil, Miss Goody Shoes!" Draco countered, with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

Hermione turned to the former Slytherin and leaned into within kissing distance, "It's _two_ shoes. Goody _two _shoes. Don't try Muggle metaphors if you don't know them."

"Fine then," Draco said softly, absently fiddling with Hermione's hair as the gazed in each other's eyes. "Goody two shoes and goody pair of mittens...and a quite noble hat and some heroic wool socks.."

"As opposed to your villainous trousers..." Hermione whispered, her words disappearing into his kiss.

"There they go," Harry said with a chuckle. "We won't see them for a while." Harry's words turned to a purr as he felt Ginny's hands tangled in his hair.

He turned to see Ginny's mischievous eyes locked on his.

"Your hair's gotten long," she sighed happily.

"Shall I cut it?" He murmured, playing with Ginny's tie.

"Of course not," Ginny gasped. She bit her lip. "I love the shaggy look."

The became lost in eachother's lips and Ron Weasley, paused mid-chew, realizing for the umpteenth time that week that he was, in fact, trapped between two quite disgusting couples. Having finished his lunch, Ron shouldered his lunch and stood slowly, unnoticed by anyone.

"Alright then," he sighed. "I'm just gonna...take a bit of walk. Still have some time...so..."

No one noticed him as he ambled out of the Great Hall and shoved his hands in his pockets with a scowl. The thoughts of Harry and Ginny began to enter his mind and he concentrated for a moment. His ongoing homework for the week was to work on blocking out unwanted thoughts which, he was told, was helpful in the area of not losing one's mind. Particularly when one's sister was dating one's best friend.

Ron continued to amble, haphazardly putting one foot in front of the other down the corridor towards the front door. That is, until he was interrupted by Nearly Headless Nick.

"Ah, Mr.Weasley!" Nick hollered, quite chipper. "The tyrant of telepathy! Miracle worker of the mind! A prodigy of-"

"Oh, sod off," Ron grumbled.

"Bit grumpy are we, Mr.Weasley?" Nick queried.

"Oh, you wouldn't understand," Ron snapped. "You've been dead too long."

"No need to get personal," Nick said, a bit affronted. Nick drifted through a wall and Ron ambled on, mumbling to himself.

"Not as if I need a girlfriend anyway... Certainly have enough to worry about... Not as if I..."

Ron turned a corner and looked up to see a strange girl inspecting one of the Quidditch trophy cases. His walk slowed, his brain feeling suddenly scrambled.

"Not as if I..." He whispered, completely forgetting the rest of his intended sentence.

Days later, Ron would feel distinctly idiotic for not immediately realizing that it was Draco's sister he was looking at. The girl was tall and slim and dressed like the young women aurors that Ron had seen in Telegraph articles. She wore brown britches- a bit like what Muggles would call cargo pants, but gathered below the knee, and a white linen blouse and brown boots. She looked like an adventurer. A bit like the famous witch who had tried to live as a Muggle aviator until disappearing back into the Wizarding world and inventing the Cleansweep Side Seat. Amelia...something.

Ron stopped abruptly, his shoes squeaking loudly in the corridor and the girl looked up. And if offered all the galleons in the world, Ron, at that moment, would not have been able to remember his name. The hair! An excess of silky black hair, falling straight as an arrow to her waist and partly pulled back (a little sloppily if one were to examine it, as if in great haste). Her face was obviously beautiful- all aristocratic delicacy and refinement and porcelain skin. But that refinement was belied by her very dress and her frank way of standing, leaning over on one foot, the other jutting out like a challenge and her hands on her hips. It was belied by her eyes. The girl was all eyes. Giant gray, stormy eyes. Ron had never seen anyone like her. The girl looked at Ron in recognition.

"It's you!" She said smiling brightly.

Ron just stood, as silent as a stone, his breath caught in his throat.

Her expression transformed to one of almost comical horror, her eyebrows raised.

"Oh wait!" She said, gasping. "I mean... That's right, I haven't actually met you. So I don't know you! Pretend I didn't say anything! I'll probably meet you later anyway! Oh dear..."

The girl backed away and then turned, just as a flock of small pink butterflies burst out of the very air. But she didn't seem to notice, running down the corridor and around a corner.

Confusion and utter delight and some unnamable emotion rolled around in Ron's mind like a drug and he felt almost dizzy as the mysterious butterflies flitted around his head and then disappeared.

A full minute later he managed to say to the empty hall, "Hi..."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The article read, "DISSENT OVER MUGGLE JEWEL HEIST."

Hermione was reading the _MI Weekly_ with a furrowed brow, leaning on her elbows as she lay on the grass under the Maple tree where the Gryffindor group had taken to hanging out.

"You know, you're very expressive when you read," Draco observed, not paying a speck of attention to his potions essay.

"I am not," Hermione argued, blushing.

"Oh yes, you are," Draco insisted. "I know you're reading something interesting now because your brow's all furrowy."

"My brow is not furrowy," Hermione said, unfurrowing her brow and holding the paper up over her face.

"No good," Draco said. "Your fingers are furrowy."

Hermione put down her paper and regarded Draco with a good natured glower.

"That's ridiculous."

Draco lay down next to her and rested his chin on his hand.

"What do you think my sister will be like?" He asked idolly.

Draco was meant to meet the mysterious Dabria before dinner. Though apparently, she had been there all day, getting herself acquainted with the grounds.

"Boy, do I don't know," Hermione answered him, leaning her head on his shoulder, while skimming the paper. "I mean she was raised by an auror in secret, so I'll bet she's pretty tough."

Draco stared off into the distance, imagining his sister's childhood. "Sometimes," he said, "I catch myself thinking that I can't imagine a father so horrible that his wife had their child raised in secret so he'd never find her... And then I remember, oh wait, I was raised by him."

Hermione felt there was no way to properly respond to this and so answered him by squeezing his shoulder.

He met her eyes and smiled, "What do you think I would've been like if I'd been raised in obscurity by some auror?"

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'd still be a cheeky git," she assured him.

"So what if she's really ugly or something?" Draco said casually.

"And would you love her less if she were ugly!" Hermione shrilled, her voice going up a few octaves.

"No, I just wanted to hear your voice do that."

"Cheeky git."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So what did you think of that announcement Dumbledore made this morning?" Ginny asked, hand in hand with Harry as they made their way to the Maple tree in no hurry at all.

"Oh, well I don't agree that Canary Creams should be banned from Quidditch matches," he said in a mock-serious tone. "Personally, I don't mind feathers on the field and they don't look enough like snitches to disrupt my seeking."

"And as fascinating as your thoughts on candy littering are," Ginny said sardonically, "that is not, in fact, what I was referring to."

"I see," Harry said understandingly, swinging the girl's hand. "You must be referring to the proposal for a Divination Club. I wouldn't say I'm fourscore against it, but if Trewlaney's any part of it, I will _not_ be joining."

"Okay," Ginny said in her dangerously stern voice. "You're starting to the cross line from charming into just a little bit irritating."

"Perhaps you're talking about the Borgie Ball!" Harry said triumphantly, quickly correcting his mistake.

"Excellent thinking, Hero Boy!" Ginny laughed.

"Yes, I was thinking about asking Millicent Bulstrode to the Ball," Harry said, trying to sound as serious as possible.

Ginny attempted to stifle a laugh, pretending to play along and said, "Millicent Bulstrode! Well, I was thinking about asking the giant squid. What a cute double date that would be!"

The two laughed freely and Harry pulled her to him, sweetly kissing her.

"Hey, do you where my absurd brother is?" Ginny asked. "He's been falling yet further behind in potions. I was going to give him some insider information."

"I think he said he was going flying out by the cliffs," Harry said. "He's seemed pretty distracted since lunch. Must be that thought blocking stuff."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ron Weasley wandered the grounds beyond the castle, absentmindedly trailing his broom behind him. He had been flying around the quidditch pitch a bit, but he did enjoy this normally abandoned spot.

He had been thinking about the girl all day. The oddity of the interaction. Perhaps the girl had mistaken him for someone else. Perhaps one of his brothers. Between attempting to solve that and attempting to keep foreign thoughts out of his mind, he felt mentally exhausted. He had wisely avoided allowing schoolwork to take up too much mental space.

"She's probably just a visitor," Ron muttered to himself. "Don't get your hopes up, Weasley. Maybe a Beauxbatons girl." He frowned. "Didn't have the look of a Beauxbatons girl... But how did she know me?"

Ron let the cool crisp wind blow his hair back and closed his eyes for a moment, the memory of her eyes swirling around in his head. And when he opened his eyes again...

There she was.

She stood near the cliff's precipice, looking out on the lake. The wind wreaking havoc with her long black hair. She had her hands clasped behind her back and stood in that same fashion again- leaning on her left foot, her right toe jutting out.

Ron stopped in his tracks once again and just stared. He was trying to come up with a clever greeting. Perhaps something along the lines of, 'Hey, strange girl, please don't run away again.' And then it was too late.

Because she was running away again.

She was running right over the edge of the cliff.

Ron's mind did not comprehend this until the moment she actually leapt off the edge and then he was running after her, quite uselessly. But it was far too late.

She was gone.

"HEEEEEY!" Was all Ron could muster.

Ron, adrenaline surging through him, stopped short at the edge of the cliff, only to see the girl plunging toward an outcropping of rather nasty rocks, her hair hair billowing all around her, an expression of complete peace on her face. The peace turned to astonishment when she saw him looking down at her in horror. And then, just before meeting an almost certain death, she turned into a bird.

Suddenly her arms were wings, her hair seeming to cover her as she shrank into a black bird with white tail feathers that flew swiftly along the lake for just a moment and then up back toward the cliffs and over his head and down near the grass in the direction of the castle. And then she was a girl again, running at top speed back to Hogwarts. And then she was a bird. And then she was a girl. As if she couldn't quite decide. And then she was a bird that flew around Gryffindor Tower toward the entrance of the castle. And she was gone.

"Holy bloody mother of Merlin," Ron gasped, utterly breathless.

Ron, who had fallen to his knees, his heart about to palpitate right out of his chest, his head pounding with tension, his eyes wild, would find in the future that such moments with Dabria were to become a matter of course.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

In the common room, Hermione, Harry and Ginny sat in front of the fire mulling over the concept of Draco's sister who he had just left to meet in Dumbledore's office.

"I bet she's quiet and mysterious," Ginny said, a sparkle of romance in her eyes.

"What if she's worse than Malfoy?" Harry said, looking dazed at the thought.

"How could she be worse than Malfoy?" Ginny countered rhetorically.

"Hello?" Hermione cut in. "Dating the boy here?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled, exchanging a look of amusement with Ginny. He not-so-deftly changed the subject. "Ron still not back from flying?"

He was answered by the sight of Ron himself, who stumbled into the common room with his broom looking wide-eyed and panicked. He sat in a chair by the fire and gripped its arms, his shoulders hunched in tension.

"Ron?" Hermione questioned. "What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"We see ghosts everyday," Harry wisely pointed out.

"You know what I mean," she said with a roll of her eyes and turning back to Ron. "Ron, what on earth's the matter?"

"What?" He yipped. "Nothing! What! The bird... I saw the... bird. Again."

"Well, did it turn into a dementor or something?" Harry suggested.

Ron took a deep breath and looked like he was about to speak and than stopped. He looked around the room at nothing in particular, stroked his chin and sighed. Then he smiled a small and bewildered smile as if he were puzzling something out.

"Ron?" Ginny said uselessly. "Ronniekins?"

"I'm going to change clothes," Ron said in a very unRon-like soft voice. "I'll see you at dinner."

Harry, Hermione and Ginny exchanged looks of absolute wonder at his exit.

"What is _that_ about?" Hermione said with a laugh.

Harry pondered his friend's strange behavior. "I think he has an unhealthy relationship with that bird."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco drummed his fingers on the railing of the all too quickly moving spiral staircase. All day he had been thinking about it, and he still couldn't quite decide whether or not he was eager to meet his sister. He had a dozen contradictory emotions within him. One on hand, he had killed their father. Would she not be somewhat put off by such a person? Even if it had been in self-defense. On the other hand, their father had been this girl's greatest enemy. In a sense, he had unknowingly solved the girl's biggest problem. Now she was suddenly allowed to come out of hiding after fifteen long years of exile. On yet another hand, his actions were responsible for the death of the girl's adopted father, Daimhin Forsythe.

"Too many hands," he muttered.

"What was that, Mr.Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall said from behind him.

Draco winced. Being called Malfoy by anyone but Hermione was one thing. But _Mr.Malfoy_ was too much. That was his father's name. When he heard it, he half expected Lucius to pop up out of nowhere. Yet it was difficult to explain such a thing to every teacher in the school. He supposed he'd just have to get used to it.

"Um, I said I'm kinda hungry," Draco lied.

McGonagall didn't respond and then they were at Dumbledore's door. Draco stood there, not particularly wanting to move and feeling, all of a sudden, very nervous. McGonagall made a squeak of annoyance stepping in front of him to open the door and looked at him expectantly. He made himself follow her and there he was.

There, in Dumbledore's office, was his mother having a conversation with Remus Lupin.

_How odd_, Draco thought. Although, at the last training session, Lupin had mentioned that he knew Dabria very well and had seemed a bit apologetic about having to keep it a secret from the boy, it still seemed highly bizarre to see him having a casual conversation with his mother.

And there was Dumbledore, stroking his beard and talking to a girl with very long black hair whose hands, hidden behind her back, were very fidgetty.

Draco felt quite stupid later, when he remembered that his first thought upon seeing her was, _That can't be her, her hair is black._

"Ah, Mr.Malfoy!" Dumbledore said in his most irritatingly joyful voice as no one appeared to notice Draco flinching. "May I, _finally_, present to you, your sister, Dabria!"

The girl turned around and Draco's second thought upon seeing her was, _That must be her, those are definitely Malfoy eyes._

"Hello," the girl said softly. "It's so nice to finally meet you. I'm Dabria Mal- um, I'm Dabria."

oooooooo**A/N-Hope you're enjoying it! Thanks for the reviews!**ooooo


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